


How to Bury the Hatchet

by Marsipaani



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adults, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Angst, Slow Build, Teenagers, very very slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marsipaani/pseuds/Marsipaani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human AU: Bonnibel Bubblegum is the dutiful heir of the Candy Kingdom inc., the local candy manufacturer. She's also a bored-out-of-her-mind business major whose true passion lies in chemistry. One Friday her roommate drags her to a show where she meets the girl she had spent last seven years trying to forget. Bonnibel is determined to keep avoiding her: too bad she's playing in the same band with Bonnibel's roommate's boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So messed up, I want you here

**Author's Note:**

> **//Edited December 30th 2014: I read trough the story and corrected some mistakes I had spotted, and changed a few things that had been bothering me. I'm going to update very soon now that I'm happier about the old chapters! I also made a[playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toDgW_LHXZU&list=PLfUFPR9-gNkGv2Awhri7vUClxkCPsG3I5) of most of the songs featured in the story, feel free to check it out if you're curious :) I'm adding new songs to it along the way.**
> 
>  
> 
> Original A/N:
> 
> This story is probably going to have something like 6-10 chapters. It's the first fic I've written in ages, and a first one to this fandom. I'm kind of exited to see where this is going tbh :D
> 
> General warnings for the story: alcohol as a coping mechanism, underage drinking, homophobia, cissexism, transmisogyny, misgendering

**2013**

 

"Bonnibel! Hey, Bonnibel, wake up!" Lady was nudging Bonnibel's shoulder.  
  
"What?" she said, completely disorientated.  
  
"The professor asked you a question."  
  
"Oh." Bonnibel looked at the blackboard. A simple calculation… "The answer is 3.5 percent profit but I really think you're being quite optimistic here. I mean it has to be very good advertisement to make that much difference, and the effect of advertising is usually not so easy to calculate anyway," she said.  
  
The professor seemed disappointed that Bonnibel had been able to answer. "Well, I'm glad that Miss Bubblegum is paying attention. You are absolutely right, the effects of advertisement are not that easy to calculate. Usually…" Bonnibel drifted off again. This class was one of the most boring ones she had, and because this was the last one on Friday it was not like anyone else was paying much attention either. Truth to be told, all of Bonnibel's classes were boring. She didn't really like business at all, but as the heir of the Candy Kingdom inc. it was her responsibility to get good at it. All of the employees of the company depended on her. Or they would in few years.  
  
Bonnibel was exhausted because she had stayed up all night again doing what she actually loves: chemistry. She had been experimenting on different essences to make a lemon flavor that would be both cheaper and better tasting than the one they were using right now. She was pretty certain she had it almost right. In the end she had fallen asleep head against the kitchen table, only to be woken up a couple of hours later by Lady, who was her roommate. She had been quite irritated by the fact that Bonnibel had used her coffeemaker to mix the ingredients. Well, the coffee pot had been the only available glass jar, and there was even a measuring scale printed on it, so it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Bonnibel was so close to making synthetic lemon flavor that tasted more real than actual lemons that she could nearly smell it. She just needed to experiment a little more.  
  
After what felt like forever, the lesson was finally over. Bonnibel shoved all her things to her backpack as fast as she could, not caring if she crumbled some papers in the process. She was not going to do the homework anyway.  
  
"So I was thinking," Lady said as they were walking home, "you know, Jake and his band have a show tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like to come."  
  
"I really don't know. I'm kind of tired and…" Bonnibel scratched the back of her head. What if she added some more citric acid? Lemon is supposed to be sour, right?  
  
"…go out more," Lady was saying.  
  
"Sorry, what were you saying?"  
  
"I said, you should go out more. You know, meet people. You are losing the grip on reality." Lady was looking at Bonnibel with genuine worry.  
  
"I'm not!" Bonnibel snapped.  
  
"You so are. You'd have gone to your classes wearing yesterday's clothes, lab coat and goggles if I hadn't stopped you. And when was the last time you ate anything but lemon drops?" Ok, so maybe Lady had a point.  
  
"But I'm on a verge of a breakthrough! I have almost figured out all the components…"  
  
"Whatever. It's Friday night and you and I are going out. No science for you tonight, Bubblegum."  
  
  
  
When they reached their apartment Bonnibel went to her room to catch a quick nap, only to be woken up three hours later, still wearing her shoes and coat.  
  
"I ordered pizza. And made coffee. Come, you need to eat," Lady said.  
  
"What kind of pizza?" Bonnibel mumbled to her pillow.  
  
"Vegetarian. With pineapple. Come on."  
  
Bonnibel yawned and shrugged the coat of her shoulders. "What time is it?"  
  
"Eight. They'll start playing at ten, so we still have plenty of time."  
  
Lady had cleared a small area on the kitchen table to toss the pizza on. Bonnibel's stomach rumbled at the smell. She grabbed a slice and sat on the floor because the chair was occupied by Science magazines.  
  
"So whe're they playin' at?" She spoke with her mouth full.  
  
"At the Belly of the Beast, the new club downtown." Bonnibel had walked past the place a couple of times. There was a painting of teeth around the entrance, and in the evening they spread a red, tongue shaped carpet on the sidewalk.  
  
"Yeah, I know the place. Isn't Finn like way too young to get in though?" Bonnibel took a sip of coffee that still had a distinct sweet and sour aroma.  
  
"Apparently it's okay since he's performing. Besides Jake knows the owner of the place."  
  
Lady had been dating Jake for a few months now. They had met in the Korean night class that Lady teaches. Apparently Jake was a natural talent, or then he had just tried really hard to impress her, because he seemed to already understand everything Lady said to him.  
  
Jake lived in the outskirts of the city with his 17-year-old brother, Finn. Bonnibel had been stupid enough to blurt "you're brothers?" the first time she saw them together. She had never seen siblings that looked less alike: Jake was way over six feet tall twenty-something-year-old black guy and Finn was a short and scrawny white kid with blue eyes and long, blonde hair that looked like it belonged to a Disney princess. But apparently Jake's family had adopted Finn when he was just a baby. Bonnibel was happy for Lady, Jake was a cool guy and hanging out with the brothers was the most fun she had had in awhile.  
  
"I think I rather like this lemon in the coffee," Bonnibel said absently. It was such an unexpected combination of tastes. She wondered if there was some way in which she could make it work in a candy…  
  
"Well I don't, and that's the last time you touch my coffee maker!" Lady sounded actually a little mad. "And it'd be nice if I had room to cook in this kitchen instead of ordering takeout every night."  
  
Bonnibel looked around, as if seeing the kitchen for the first time. "I'm sorry. I guess I got a bit carried away last week..." Now that she had slept a bit and gotten food and caffeine in her system she saw things much clearer. "I'll clean up tomorrow. I promise."  
  
Lady cocked a brow. "I'm serious!" Bonnibel said.  
  
She wolfed down the rest of the pizza before taking a shower. She dried her hair and decided to put some lipstick on. It was her favorite shade of pink, after all. "Hey Lady," she called, "can I use your mascara?"  
  
"Yeah, go ahead!"  
  
With make-up on Bonnibel felt a bit self-conscious. She didn't usually care about her looks, but tonight she wanted to make an impression. She put her curly blonde hair, which was not nearly as shiny as Finn's, in a messy bun on the top of her head. She smiled at her reflection.  
  
When other people had a favorite color, Bonnibel had a favorite shade of pink. Almost every garment she owned was pink or purple. For tonight she chose old, battered sneakers, because there was no way she was going to dance in heels, tights with darker polka dots, faded denim shorts and a lace top. The perks of having a monochromatic wardrobe was that everything always matched. Bonnibel had tried to buy clothes of another color once, but the green skirt was still in the bottom of her closet with the price tag on.  
  
"You ready?" Lady asked, stepping into her room. She looked amazing, as usual. She had sparkled glitter over her eyelids and she was wearing a rainbow colored top with a black sequin miniskirt and golden platform shoes.  
  
"Yeah, let's go. You look awesome," Bonnibel said.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Lady said with a smirk, "you're not so bad yourself."  
  
The walk to the club wasn't long. The poster next to the door claimed that "The Band of Ooo ft. The Vampire Queen" were performing tonight. "The Band of Ooo? I thought they were called Jake and the Boy (and the Robot)?" Bonnibel said, carefully pronouncing the parenthesis.  
  
"Well, it was not a very good name, and besides it was too long. I don't think they'll stick with this one either, though." Lady walked straight past the queue. The bouncer glanced at her once and said: "You must be Lady, right? And you're Princess, no doubt." His gaze run up and down Bonnibel's body.  
  
"Y-yeah, I guess I am," she said, frowning. Stupid guys who thought they could look at her like that and get away with it. "She said you'd be wearing all pink," the guy continued.  
  
Who said? Bonnibel wanted to ask, but Lady pulled her inside. It was probably BMO though, people misgendered them all the time. It was just that no-one had called her Princess in years, and the nickname made her feel a bunch of emotions she had tried to repress.  
  
Bonnibel shook her head and let Lady lead her to the bar.  
  
Lady was true to her name: she ordered red wine. Bonnibel had a strawberry margarita. "Let's go to the front, I think they're starting soon," Lady said and took Bonnibel's hand.  
  
The crowd was already gathering in front of the stage. Lady pushed them to the front with the determination of violinist's girlfriend and the power of sharp elbows. "They're coming!" She gasped, and then the whole audience exploded with applause. Bonnibel wondered how had the band suddenly become so famous.  
  
"How are you all doing tonight?" Jake shouted, getting another round of applauses, "we're the Band of Ooo, and tonight we have a very special guest: on the bass – Marceline the Vampire Queen!"  
  
Bonnibel's stomach turned upside down, and for the moment she thought the screaming she heard was coming from her own head. Bonnibel wanted to turn around and run. She realized it was not Jake's band that had suddenly become popular, but Marceline who everyone had came to see. Bonnibel was trapped: there was no way she could push herself through the crowd now.  
  
And besides Marceline had already noticed her. There was a brief flash of uncertainty in her eyes before she flashed her most arrogant smirk at Bonnibel. It was the face that made her want to scream with frustration.  
  
After that the whole concert was a blur to Bonnibel. She remarked absently that the music sounded much better with the bass. They had some new songs too, some of them undoubtedly Marceline's. Bonnibel tried not to look at her, but could not help but notice that the girl had really grown up. She was no longer an awkward teenager in ill-fitting jeans with a messy mop of hair and zits on her nose. Adult Marceline had a long, glowing hair with an undercut, tattoos and piercings and skinny jeans that were so tight she must have jumped around quite a bit to squeeze herself in them.  
  
In other words she was stunning, and Bonnibel was definitely staring. And Marceline had noticed it, like she always did. Bonnibel's whole face was on fire. She tried to look at anything else: the way Finn banged the drums like he was trying to trash them, or how BMO looked like they were in a world of their own, playing the keyboard with a dreamy look on their face. Jake was showing off with the viola. All four of them were singing. They were really the most  unconventional band: the music had been somewhat like indie rock before Marceline had joined in, but now as she was alternating between punk and heavy metal, no-one seemed to know what was going on. And then there was BMO, who sampled electronic noise and random beeping sounds into the mix. Bonnibel had really no idea how they managed to sound like they were playing the same song half of the time, but somehow it was working. Like lemon in coffee. Salt on the rim of margarita glass. Chili and chocolate. The way Marceline's smug face made Bonnibel want to both punch her teeth in and kiss her senseless.  
  
Ok no, she was not going to think about that right now. Or ever again.  
  
The band did three encores, the last one being particularly obscene cover of I Wanna Be Your Dog, before disappearing backstage for good.  
  
Despite of Bonnibel's protests Lady dragged her to meet the band. They walked through a dark corridor that had graffitis of internal organs painted on the walls, and suddenly Marceline was right in front of Bonnibel, leaning on the doorframe.  
  
"Hey, Princess," she said casually, like they had met yesterday.  
  
"Hi, Marcy," Bonnibel answered with a much more strained voice. When Marceline just stood there, staring at her with an unreadable expression, she continued, "aren't you gonna let us pass?"  
  
"Y-yeah, sorry, of course. Come on in."  
  
The back room was small and messy. BMO was sitting on the windowsill, playing Nintendo. Jake and Finn filled the small sofa. Marceline grabbed a plastic bag from the floor. "Let's see… we have beer, mountain dew and… some wine coolers if that's your thing." She offered Bonnibel a bottle of something pink with a picture of raspberry on the label. She wanted to decline, but the truth was that the drink, whatever it was, was probably the one she'd have chosen herself.  
  
"Thanks," she said instead.  
  
"Soo…" Finn said to the suddenly awkward silence, "Marceline said you guys know each other?"  
  
"We've met, yes. It was years ago," Bonnibel answered, hoping that Finn wouldn't ask more.  
  
"Oh come on Bonnie, we're not that old!" Marceline laughed.  
  
"Well, I haven't heard of you in what, seven years?" Bonnibel retorted. Nothing about this was funny.  
  
"Where did you meet?" Finn asked when it became clear that no-one was going to say anything more. He clearly didn't know when to change the subject.  
  
"It was… uh…" Bonnibel didn't know what to say. She looked at Marceline, trying to figure out what she had told them.  
  
"A summer camp. We were sixteen," Marceline finished her sentence.  
  
"Yeah," Bonnibel agreed unnecessarily. Summer camp was not too far from the truth.  
  
After that the conversation moved to other subjects. Lady was telling some long story in Korean, making Jake laugh. Marceline and Finn were in the middle of a heated debate about music, to which BMO occasionally chimed in with totally derailing comments like: "Britney Spears is secretly a genius and all the scandals are just some evil plan of hers."  
  
Bonnibel was happy to be left alone. She sipped her surprisingly delicious drink, trying to figure out what exact chemicals were used to make it taste like that. Maybe they had used some actual raspberry? She cracked open a second bottle. Yep, definitely real raspberry, but also something else…  
  
Marceline's voice brought her back to the present. "Dude, are you kidding? You didn't know that Bonnie plays guitar?" Bonnibel lifted her gaze to find everyone staring at her.  
  
"You do?" Jake said hopefully.  
  
"No, I mean not anymore, I don't," she muttered.  
  
"But Bonnie, you were like a non-stop best of Beatles record back then!" Marceline exclaimed.  
  
"No I wasn't! I mean, I played all kinds of stuff," Bonnibel defended herself.  
  
"Yeah right, but you gotta admit it was mostly Yesterday and Hey Jude," Marceline said with an insufferable grin on her face.  
  
"I remember you trying to play Paranoid on my classical guitar, so who's the ridiculous one here?"  
  
"Okay, you may have a point there," Marceline said good-naturedly. "And I was just kidding, really, you play like, crazy good."  
  
Bonnibel blushed a bit. "Well, ten years of training in classical music, I mean… yeah."  
  
"Why didn't you say anything? We've been looking for a guitarist for ages!" Finn said excitedly.  
  
"Like I said, I don't play anymore." Everyone was still looking at her. "I don't! Besides, I sold my guitar," she snapped.  
  
"You did what?" Marceline cried. Suddenly Bonnibel remembered what was scratched on the back of her old instrument.  
  
"I didn't need it anymore," she murmured, "and anyways, I don't have time to play in a band with my studies and everything, so you need to find someone else. I'm sorry."  
  
Bonnibel felt empty, even though she knew there was no way she could just start playing again. She had no time, and quite frankly she was afraid she had forgotten everything during the years she had spent not even thinking about music. But still… she missed the way the strings felt under her fingers. Bonnibel felt a sudden surge of nostalgia, so strong it nearly brought tears in her eyes. Maybe if she was a little more drunk she would feel better. She scavenged the plastic back for a third bottle, but there was no more raspberry stuff. She chose the pear one instead.  
  
Some time passed, and then Lady sat down next to her. "Are you okay?" she asked, shouting over the music that was suddenly very loud.  
  
"Yeah, I'm totally fine! I think they used propyl acetate and pentyl butyrate in this drink, but no actual pear juice!" she shouted back.  
  
Lady ignored the comment. "You just look a bit down, that's all," she spoke to her ear.  
  
"I said I'm fine! Now I'm gonna find out what they used as a flavor in this one!" Bonnibel exclaimed cheerfully, lifting a bottle of blue liquid. "What do you think this is supposed to taste like?"  
  
"Let me try. Uh, maybe lemon? Or lime?" Lady said after taking a sip. "Did it make my tongue blue?" She sticked her tongue out for Bonnibel to examine.  
  
"Yeah, a bit!" Bonnibel gulped down some of the blue stuff too. "You're right, this tastes like lemon. Booriing! And it's not nearly as good as my essence, anyway!" she yelled, because everyone needed to know how good she was at what she did.  
  
"I'm gonna go sit with Jake now if you don't mind!" Lady shouted, and got up again. "You tell me when you wanna go home, okay?"  
  
"Don't worry about me! You go and kiss your boyfriend!" Bonnibel shouted slightly too loudly, making everyone in the room laugh. Lady kissed her on the forehead and went to do just that.  
  
Bonnibel got up too, suddenly very grateful that she had chosen not to wear heels. She went to sit on the armrest of the sofa, between Finn and Marceline. "Aren't you too young to drink that stuff?" she said, gesturing towards the beer bottle Finn was holding.  
  
"This is my first one tonight, I've been mostly just drinking soda. And this tastes like piss anyway, so you can have it if you want." Bonnibel took the bottle. She remarked that the beer didn't taste nearly as bad when she was already drunk.  
  
"Since when do you drink beer?" Marceline shouted to Bonnibel. "I got the wine coolers specifically for you!"  
  
"I don't drink beer, except when I do!" she tried to explain.  
  
"You're not making any sense!" Marceline yelled back.  
  
Finn was laughing. "Dang, Bubblegum, I don't think I've ever seen you drunk before!"  
  
"You see, I have that effect on her!" Marceline shouted, and then they were both laughing.  
  
"Don't laugh at me! I'm not that drunk!" Bonnibel said, "and my drinking has nothing to do with you!" she added. Honestly though, she was kind of lightweight at the moment. She leaned on to Finns head. "Your hair is like, super shiny!" she exclaimed.  
  
"I know right!" Finn shouted cheerfully.  
  
"Let's go dancing!" Marceline yelled. "Come on Princess, I wanna dance with you!" Marceline took her hand. Suddenly all the reasons why dancing with Marceline was a bad idea vanished from Bonnibel's head.  
  
"Jake, Lady, you coming or what?" Marceline called over her shoulder.  
  
"Where's BMO?" Bonnibel asked when they were in the corridor of internal organs again, "and what the frick is going on with this graffiti?"  
  
"Zie went to dance like half an hour ago," Marceline said the same time as Finn was explaining: "Well, this place is called the Belly of the Beast. You should see the back door!"  
  
"Finn, that's disgusting!" Bonnibel shouted as Marceline started to laugh.  
  
And then they were on the dance floor. It took Bonnibel a fraction of a second to recognize the song. "Oh my glob! I can't believe they're still playing this song. It's like older than Finn!"  
  
"Hey! A lot of songs are older than you too!"  
  
"This was on the first record I ever bought!" Bonnibel shouted to Marceline.  
  
"I know! You told me, remember?" she answered.  
  
The song was t.A.T.u.'s All the Things She Said. Bonnibel had been twelve years old when she had seen the music video the first time. After that she had spent every afternoon glued to the television screen, hoping to see Lena and Yulia kissing again. She had saved her pocket money for weeks to buy the CD, because she couldn't just ask her father to buy it for her. Not that one.  
  
Finn was busy with a fan who was asking him if he really was the drummer and if so, could she get his autograph. So Bonnibel pulled Marceline to the middle of the dance floor, mouthing along with the lyrics. " _I can try to pretend, I can try to forget, but it's driving me mad, going out of my head…_ " They were dancing, but Bonnibel kept Marceline at an arm's length. Marceline had grown taller that her. Bonnibel felt giddy having to look up to meet her gaze. Marceline's eyes looked all black in the dim light, like she had no irises at all. Every time she was trying to pull her closer, Bonnibel took a step back. She told herself it was only the alcohol that made Marceline so… handsy.  
  
The song ended. "I need to go to the toilet," she excused herself hastily, and walked away without checking if Marceline followed her.  
  
_What on Earth am I doing?_ she thought, looking at her reflection. _Last time I checked, Marceline hated me! And I am so much better off without her too._ She added some lipstick and sticked her tongue out. Still blue.  
  
Marceline was waiting for her outside.  
  
"Look, Marcy," she started, but whatever she was going to say next was blocked by Marceline's mouth.  
  
The kiss was a sloppy, drunken thing. Marceline's hands were on the back of Bonnibel's neck, playing with curls that were hanging loose from her bun. Her mouth tasted like beer and cigarettes, which was surprisingly nice. Bonnibel was about to kiss her back, but then she froze. She had dreamed about kissing Marceline for so long, and she wanted to… but not like this. She pushed her away.  
  
"You're drunk! I don't… Why are you doing this?" Bonnibel was distracted by the pink stain on Marceline's upper lip. She took a step back. She wanted to smear her whole face with her lipstick, but that was not something she should be thinking about right now.  
  
"I'm sorry. I though…" Marceline said, stepping into Bonnibel's personal space again.  
  
"You don't even like me! You said you never want to see me again! Just, go. I don't want anything to do with you!" Bonnibel pushed Marceline away. "Tomorrow you'll thank me for stopping you from making the same mistake again," she said over her shoulder. The girl shouted something to her back, but Bonnibel refused to listen.  
  
She found Lady and Jake at the bar.  
  
"I'd like to go now," she said to Lady, her voice shaking slightly. Her friend's gaze moved from messy lipstick to running mascara (Bonnibel was NOT crying) and disheveled hair.  
  
"Okay," she said simply, and bended over to say something to Jake's ear.  
  
"What happened?" she asked when they were outside.  
  
"I don't wanna talk about it." They walked in silence. The fresh air made Bonnibel sober up a little bit. She wished vehemently that she was still drunk, because thinking clearly made everything hurt more.  
  
"Did you know Marceline was gonna be there?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, I met her a couple of days ago at Jake's. I thought I told you but I guess you weren't listening." Bonnibel cursed herself. She could have avoided the whole fiasco if she hadn't been so immersed in her experiments.  
  
"Did she… hurt you? I mean, she said you were friends… I wouldn't have made you go if I'd known," Lady was trying to put her words carefully.  
  
"There's nothing to know about. She didn't do anything. We just talked."  
  
Lady looked at her disbelievingly.  
  
"I mean it. There's nothing to worry about."  
  
And that was the truth. Bonnibel was going to focus on her studies and science, and she was doing everything she could to avoid Marceline, who was no doubt doing the same. In the morning Marceline would remember just what Bonnibel was really like, and that would be the end of all this… nonsense.  
  
Later, when Bonnibel was laying in the bed, she ran her finger across her lips where Marceline had kissed her. Why had she said they were friends, she wondered before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I know nothing about business or chemistry, sorry! Also as you hopefully didn't notice, English is not my first language. So if there were any mistakes or weirdness, I'd appreciate it if you pointed it out. I have also never been to US so I'm being purposefully vague about the locations and stuff.
> 
> This chapter got its name from the song I Wanna Be Your Dog by The Stooges, obviously.
> 
> Oh, and: BMO's pronouns are both they/them and zie/hir, and they're agender.
> 
> The next chapter is going to take us to the world of 16-year-old Bonnibel. Stay tuned!


	2. Had it been another day I might have looked the other way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading & leaving kudos! I'm gonna assume my English is perfect and writing flawless since none of you commented on anything.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: homophobia, transphobia, transmisogyny, misgendering, ex-gay movement, abuse (not physical) in the name of religion, portraying of christianity in a very negative light (I know they/you all are not like that but that's not the point here), mentions of suicidal thoughts, drug abuse and alcoholism. Sorry about being so negative in this chapter :(

**2006**  
  
It was supposed to be an ordinary summer camp. Bonnibel didn't understand why her mother had demanded her to go. "You'll meet some new people there. You could really use some more friends," she had said. Bonnibel kicked the seat in front of her. She did not need any stupid friends who would make go to hang out in the mall, or whatever it was that people her age were doing all the time. She had her lab, and her books. She was quite happy being on her own. She thought of the other thing her mother had said: "maybe you'll meet some nice boy there!" Bonnibel kicked the seat again, earning a meaningful look from their butler who was driving the car. In Bonnibel's experience all boys were icky.  
  
The camp was in the middle of nowhere, with just miles and miles of forest everywhere. There was a sign that said "Welcome to Haven!" in blue and pink letters, and a five or so wooden buildings around the yard. Peppermint parked the car and stepped out to get Bonnibel's backpack and guitar.  
  
"Hey, here in Haven we carry our own backpacks!" called a cheerful voice from behind Bonnibel as she was stepping out of the car.  
  
"That's what I was gonna do," she muttered to herself. She could already tell that she was going to hate it here. She allowed Peppermint to assist her with the backpack and turned to face the guy.  
  
"I'm James Baxter, and you must be the father!" he said to Peppermint, offering his hand. His every sentence seemed to end with an exclamation mark.  
  
Peppermint didn't shake his hand. "No, I'm the butler," he said. Mr. Baxter looked like he was filing the information in his head for future reference. "And you're Bonnibel Bubblegum, am I right?" He turned his attention to Bonnibel, looking at her pink hair and sour expression.  
  
"Yes," Bonnibel said, taking the offered hand. "Nice to meet you," she added, remembering her manners.  
  
"Nice to meet you too! I see you brought a guitar! That is good, you can play some campfire songs. Do you know Kumbaya?"  
  
Bonnibel knew how to play Bach. She most certainly could play Kumbaya if that's what they wanted. She nodded.  
  
"Entertainment is very important! Say goodbye to your butler and let's get you settled then!"  
  
Peppermint looked like he wanted to hug her. "Goodbye then, and take care of yourself, miss," he said. "And… remember you are just fine the way you are," he added hastily.  
  
Bonnibel stared at him. Where did that come from?  
  
"Yeah, well say hi to Mother from me. Drive safely!" she said instead.  
  
Mr. Baxter led her to one of the cottages. "This is where you'll sleep. The bunks by the window are already taken, but you can choose either one of these," he said, gesturing towards the narrow bunks on both sides. "Dinner is served at the main building in half an hour!" Mr. Baxter turned to leave. "Oh, one more thing. Make sure to bring your phone and wallet to the main building for safekeeping! You won't need them here. So if you need to call someone, now's the time."  
  
Bonnibel stared after him. There was something very off about this place. She dumped her backpack and guitar on one of the beds and flopped down next to them. "Ouch!" she yelped. The bed was hard as stone.  
  
Great, just awesome.  
  
She didn't have anyone to call to, so she shoved some of her clothes to the drawer next to her bed and pulled out her sleeping bag and pillow. She turned off her phone, a pink clamshell with rhinestones glued on it, and dug out her wallet from the backpack. It was a good thing that they were kept safe, right? There were no locks on the drawers, so maybe it was smart to put them somewhere else.  
  
Bonnibel heard shouting from outside. "I'm not gonna stay here! You can't make me!" The door opened with a bang. Someone shoved inside a grumpy looking girl with a short black hair and huge backpack. Despite the heat she was wearing a long sleeved red flannel shirt and jeans.  
  
"Fuck you all!" she shouted and kicked the bed.  
  
"Language, dear. This is for your own good," a voice called from outside.  
  
"I'm not your dear," the girl murmured spitefully to the closed door. Bonnibel heard a car starting outside, and then it was silent.  
  
"Stop looking at me," the girl said suddenly. Bonnibel noticed she had tears in her eyes and decided to leave her alone. She grabbed her phone and wallet and stepped outside. The hot air smelled like pine needles and the light of the afternoon was blinding after the darkness of the cabin. Bonnibel thought about going back to get her sunglasses, but decided against it. She didn't want to face the girl again.  
  
When her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she headed towards the biggest building. It was a log cabin, like the rest of them. There were a few more smaller cottages like the one Bonnibel was staying at, a building that had a sign "toilets and showers" above the door, a couple of nicer looking houses a little farther away, where Bonnibel guessed the camp employees were staying, and a small, white chapel.  
  
Some boys were sitting on the veranda of the main building. They all looked roughly her age, and she thought that her mother's wish of finding a boyfriend wouldn't come true: they all looked pretty gay to her. Bonnibel was trying not to judge them by looks only, but they were definitely flirting with each other too. Also the chubby latino guy was wearing a dress, and he had covered his face with pretty nicely applied make-up. Bonnibel greeted them politely as she went inside.  
  
There was a small hallway, and a unnecessarily cheerful "no shoes beyond this point!" sign on the wall. Bonnibel kicked off her neon pink sandals and chose the door on the middle. The cool planking felt nice on her bare feet.  
  
The room was big was big, although two long, wooden tables took most of the space. The kitchen was on the opposite end, judging by the smell cooking. There were two blonde girls sitting at the table, one being short and kind of shy-looking and the other one tall and very muscular.  
  
"Hi," she said as she was approaching them, "do you know where I should take my phone and wallet?"  
  
"To Miss Gary's office, back to the hallway, the door on the left," the muscular girl answered.  
  
"Thank you! I'm Bonnibel Bubblegum, by the way."  
  
"Susan Strong," said the muscular girl, "and this is Mary Turtle," she continued when it became apparent that the other girl wouldn't say anything.  
  
"Nice to meet you both." Bonnibel smiled uncertainly, but her smile was met with blank faces. Well, okay then. "See you at dinner," she called over her shoulder.  
  
"Yeah," Susan said gruffly.  
  
Bonnibel knocked on Miss Gary's door. "Come in!" a sing-song voice called.  
  
Bonnibel stepped inside and tried her hardest not to gasp. Miss Gary was possibly the scariest looking woman she had ever seen: she was so thin that every bone of her body was poking through her skin, her huge pale eyes practically bulged out of her eye sockets and her blood-red mouth had way too many teeth. Every surface of the small office was littered with stuff: dirty coffee mugs and dinner plates, magazines, ballpoint pens, unrecognizable electronic devices, small porcelain animals, souvenir fobs, everything useless. It smelled rotten there.  
  
"I… I came to bring my wallet and phone," Bonnibel stammered, offering the items to the woman.  
  
"Ah, good!" Miss Gary practically snatched them out of her hands, like a raven that sees something shiny.  
  
"Let's see," she said, opening the wallet. "I see you have your own credit card already. Are you sure this is all the money you have taken with you?" she continued, fixing her unnerving gaze on Bonnibel.  
  
"Y-yes, ma'am," Bonnibel answered. "Umm… what if I need to make a phone call? Do I come to get my phone here then?"  
  
"There won't be no need to use your phone, dear," Miss Gary said with an air of finality. "Let me look at you!" she exclaimed suddenly, taking Bonnibel's chin to her bony hand. She examined at her face and hair, making a tsking sound. "Oh dear, oh dear. Well, we've had worse cases than you, that's for sure. If you're willing to work hard, we most certainly can fix you!" she said.  
  
Bonnibel didn't know what to say. Work hard on what?  
  
"All right, your valuables are now safely locked up here. Off you go, the dinner is probably ready by now," Miss Gary urged her, and Bonnibel was more than happy to get away from her and the dump pit of an office.  
  
Dining hall was bustling with noise as Bonnibel entered. She sat next to Mary, and saw Miss Gary sneaking up to the smaller table next to Mr. Baxter and a priest. The priest looked even more horrifying than Miss Gary, although Bonnibel couldn't quite figure out why. He was a perfectly ordinary looking man maybe in his fifties, but he had a hungry look in his deep-sunken eyes. Bonnibel shuddered. The annoying Mr. Baxter was starting to look very nice compared to the other two.  
  
The priest stood up, and everyone immediately fell silent.  
  
"Good day my children, and welcome to Haven," he started. His voice sent a nasty shiver down Bonnibel's spine. "I am reverend Lich, and we're here together with good Miss Gary and Mr. Baxter to lead you all to the right path.  
  
"As a teenager one starts to question all kinds of things. Your body is changing, and new feelings and desires," the Father said with an added emphasis, "start to take over. It may feel like you are alone with these feelings, but I assure you that this is not true. We have all gathered here this summer to answer those questions, and to be reborn as the men and women, the boys and girls God has meant for us to be!" He fell silent for a second, looking at the teenagers who were gathered in the room. Miss Gary whispered something to his ear.  
  
"It appears that one lamb is missing from the flock," he said after a pause. "Has anyone seen Miss Abadeer?"  
  
Everyone looked at each other. No-one seemed to know her yet, so it was impossible to tell. Bonnibel looked around and realized that the black haired girl from her cabin was the one missing.  
  
"Well," reverend Lich started, but he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The girl, Abadeer, stood in the doorway. Her feet were covered in mud up to her knees. "Take your shoes off and join us, child," the Father said with forced kindness.  
  
The girl kicked off something that may have been converses under all the mud and walked straight up to where Bonnibel was sitting, flopping down next to her. Bonnibel remarked that she had kind of a bad posture, like she was hunching her shoulders in an attempt to seem smaller. She smiled tentatively to Bonnibel and opened her mouth to speak, but Lich's voice interrupted her.  
  
"So, as I was saying, this camp is your chance to heal. You will rediscover here your natural manhood or womanhood and learn to resist, and eventually block, all the sinful thoughts…" the reverend continued. Bonnibel was getting angrier every second. She couldn't believe her parents had send her to a de-gaying camp! She wasn't even a lesbian… or she was pretty sure she wasn't. Her gaze flicked to the girl next to her. _I wonder if she likes girls_ , Bonnibel thought. She felt suddenly very self-conscious, and pushed a lock of her pink hair behind her ear.  
  
"Let us pray," she heard reverend Lich say. Bonnibel gave her hands to Mary and the Abadeer girl, but didn't say the prayer. She was an atheist, after all. She noticed that the Abadeer girl kept her mouth shut too with a disapproving look on her face.  
  
After the prayer they lined up to get food from the kitchen. The girl turned to face Bonnibel. "Look, I'm sorry about the earlier. I was just…"  
  
"Don't worry," Bonnibel interrupted her. "I understand." And she did. She would have kicked and shouted too if she'd known where she had been sent to.  
  
The girl flashed a broad smile. "I'm Marceline," she said, offering her hand.  
  
"Bonnibel. Nice to meet you." Bonnibel took the hand, feeling ashamed of her sweaty palm. Marceline held her gaze, smile tugging the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Move it, will you!" a voice called from behind them. Marceline dropped her hand and turned around to get her dinner.  
  
The food looked disgusting. There were bruised looking potatoes, meat of an unidentifiable animal in grayish sauce and over boiled carrots. The cook, a rather grumpy looking woman, dumped two potatoes on Bonnibel's plate. She was about to pour some sauce on them, when Bonnibel said: "I don't take the meat, thank you. I'm a vegetarian."  
  
The woman slowly lifted her gaze. "Is that so?" she said with a mean look in her eyes. "I guess you have to imagine this is tofu then," she continued and splashed the sauce on the plate. She finished the portion with a scoopful of carrots.  
  
Bonnibel huffed as she walked back to the table to sit next to Marceline. She tried to pick the vegetables around the meat lumps, gulping them down with water. She was hungry, but the food made her want to puke.  
  
"You're not eating those?" Marceline asked.  
  
"No, I'm a vegetarian. I'm not hungry enough yet," she answered.  
  
"Oh," Marceline said, "do you want my carrots then?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks. You want the meat?" They changed plates. Bonnibel watched Marceline gorge the food with morbid fascination. "I can't believe you're eating that. It tastes awful," Bonnibel said.  
  
Marceline gulped. "I've eaten worse," she said. Bonnibel looked at her ragged clothes and skinny figure. Bonnibel had never had to go to bed hungry, but she guessed Marceline knew what that felt like better that she ought to.  
  
Bonnibel finished her carrots and drank some more water to wash the taste out of her mouth. She had a feeling she was going to starve on this camp.  
  
Miss Gary cleared her throat. She waited everyone to fall silent before saying: "Tonight we're having a welcoming campfire! After you've finished your dinner, go get some warmer clothes, because the evening might be chilly, and make sure to be at the riverbank at seven o'clock." Her gaze flicked meaningfully towards Marceline.  
  
Bonnibel returned her clean-scraped plate to the kitchen, feeling slight satisfaction at the cook's surprised expression. "Not so vegetarian after all?" she retorted, to which Bonnibel just smiled.  
  
Bonnibel and Marceline returned to the cabin together, walking in silence. Bonnibel couldn't think of anything to say. When they were inside, Marceline started shuffling through her backpack, digging out a huge, gray anorak and hiking boots. She changed her mud-covered converses to the boots and dived into the anorak that looked like a tent around her slender figure. "See you," she called without waiting for answer.  
  
Bonnibel stared after her, baffled. What a strange kid. She decided to kill time reading Marie Curie's biography she had taken with her. She found herself intensely relating to young Marie's hardships in Warsaw and Paris, even if her own hardships had lasted barely three hours. Bonnibel snacked on the candy she had stuffed in every pocket of her backpack, but decided to save the most of it. She would probably need it more later.  
  
Susan and Mary returned to the cabin soon after. They talked in hushed tones, casting meaningful glances towards Bonnibel. Bonnibel pretended to be immersed in her reading to eavesdrop. She learned that both Mary and Susan had known full well where they had came to, and they wanted to be "cured". The girls hadn't known each other prior to the camp, but they were part of the same religious circles. Bonnibel understood now why they had been so rude to her: she certainly didn't look like a good christian girl who was doing her best to seem straight. Susan and Mary compared different ways in which they could repress their desires and keep their thoughts in line, and Bonnibel couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Bonnibel had done some research on human sexuality and knew their cure was never going to work. She feared that in trying to deny their nature they would just harm themselves.  
  
She wondered again her parents' decision to send her here. Why would they think she was a lesbian, and was it really so awful to them? Her family was quite religious, but Bonnibel had never thought that homosexuality would be such an issue. She had always known that marriage was inevitable, but only because her status in society demanded it. Bonnibel was slightly shocked to realize she had never expected to love her future husband. She had imagined her marriage to be a kind of financial affair where she should also live with the partner – a bit like how her parents' relationship seemed to be. Just business.  
  
In her mind she added this camp to the list of things she'd never forgive them.  
  
When it was nearly seven o'clock Bonnibel changed her summer dress to trousers and fluffy sweater. She asked Mary and Susan if they were coming too, trying to seem as friendly and unthreatening as possible. She was not going to be rude to them just because they were misguided. Susan actually smiled to her this time. Bonnibel grabbed her guitar and the three of them headed to the riverbank.  
  
Marceline was already sitting on one of the huge logs that surrounded the bonfire. Bonnibel placed herself next to her, but Susan and Mary sat pointedly as far away from the dark haired girl as possible. Marceline turned to greet Bonnibel, and for some reason her heart skipped a beat at Marceline's smile. Bonnibel wondered if Susan and Mary saw Marceline as bad influence or – she quickly glanced at Marceline's profile again – temptation. She fought to suppress a giggle. She noticed Marceline had a faint cigarette smell hanging around her, which explained why she had disappeared to the woods earlier.  
  
Mr. Baxter came to talk to Bonnibel about the songs they were going to sing. Thanks to her parents dragging her to the church and other religious events every now and then she knew them all, although they were very boring to play. She tuned her guitar, which was a bit out of key for being in the hot car for four hours, and nodded to mr. Baxter to signal she was ready.  
  
They started with a welcoming word, or more like a sermon with fire and brimstone, from reverend Lich and a prayer. After that they sung Kumbaya. Bonnibel couldn't help but notice that Marceline had a very nice singing voice, even if her tone was dripping with irony. Then mr. Baxter started to speak.  
  
"I wish to welcome you boys and girls here on my part too!  I am glad to see so many young people here, eager to change for the better!" He earned a round of applauses and Bonnibel briefly wondered if she and Marceline were the only people here against their will. Mr. Baxter continued: "I want to share my story with you so that you'll know that it's possible to heal. You see, I'm an ex-gay myself."  
  
Marceline didn't even try to mask the disgust on her face. Bonnibel tried to keep her face neutral.  
  
"So, I was in the show business…" mr. Baxter began. He told about how he had lived in sin, describing the men he'd been with in very graphic details, making Mary and most of the boys blush. He continued talking about his alcoholism and drug abuse, which were obviously directly related to his homosexuality. He had been utterly miserable, even though his job was to make other people laugh, how he had even attempted suicide. Finally one night he had been walking home from some party, when a sudden thunderstorm had hit, forcing him to take shelter. He had found himself in a chapel, where he had "looked Jesus in the eye."  
  
"I promised myself and God that I'd change. I had seen light. I fell asleep there, on the hard wooden bench, and it was the best bed I had ever slept in. Next morning reverend Lich found me there, and I told him about my revelation. From that day on I have worked hard to be what God made me, and I am happy to say that I am almost there. I have a girlfriend now, and we're engaged to be married in August," he paused, allowing his audience congratulate him, "and I have never been happier!"  
  
More applause.  
  
"I am a living proof that with our Lord and Savior as your guide, everything is possible!"  
  
Bonnibel didn't know what to think. She knew, logically, that de-gaying didn't work. She didn't even really understand why everyone needed to be heterosexual. But mr. Baxter was so earnest, and he seemed happy. Who was she to judge?  
  
It didn't change the fact that Bonnibel didn't want to be here. Even if she was a lesbian, she wouldn't have wanted to to change.

  
They sang a couple more songs, Bonnibel playing mechanically with her thoughts elsewhere. A guy who introduced himself as Abracadaniel showed them a couple of neat magic tricks. Bonnibel could usually figure out quite easily how the tricks were done, but with Abracadaniel she had no idea.  
  
Miss Gary spoke next. "On this camp we wake up every morning at 7 am except on Sundays, when you get to sleep till eight." Marceline glanced at Bonnibel and rolled her eyes. "Tomorrow morning breakfast is at seven thirty. After breakfast we'll have group therapy session. Full schedule will be pinned on the door of the main building. Reverend Lich, Mr. Baxter and myself are going to do checks on you during the night, to ensure that no unnatural behavior takes place."  
  
After that they prayed one more time, and went to kitchen to get sandwiches. There was cheese and ham in them, and Marceline gave her cheese to Bonnibel in exchange for the ham. The bread was dry and cheese tasted like ham and plastic, but to Bonnibel it was delicious. It tasted like the beginning of a friendship.  
  
Bonnibel thought she'd lay awake in bed because of everything that had happened, but she was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.  
  
  
  
Next morning she woke up to the awful noise of lids and kettles banging against each other. At first Bonnibel didn't know where she was and she groaned as she remembered. Bonnibel took her towel and dressed up in sweatpants and sweater to go get a shower.  
  
The water was cold, but Bonnibel couldn't find it in her to be surprised. Every time she thought it couldn't get worse here, it did. She washed herself as quickly as possible and went back to the cabin, finding Marceline still asleep. After a brief consideration Bonnibel decided to shake her awake.  
  
"Marceline, get up! We gotta go, it's almost seven thirty!" Marceline woke up with a start: her hand clenched around Bonnibel's wrist so hard it hurt.  She stared at Bonnibel, looking like a cornered animal about to attack. Bonnibel's heart hammered in her chest.  
  
Slowly Marceline's grip loosened and she said: "It's you," with a surprised tone.  
  
Bonnibel didn't know what to say, so she just stared.  
  
"Oh I'm really sorry, did I scare you?" Marceline added hastily, swinging her legs over the side of her bunk and sitting up. "It's just that… I'm not at my best when I'm woken up."  
  
"I noticed," Bonnibel said dryly, still a bit shaken. She went to sit on her own bed, back turned to give Marceline some privacy. She brushed her hair and pulled it from her face with My Little Pony barrettes, listening to Marceline fumbling with her clothes, swearing under her breath.  
  
"You really didn't have to wait for me", Marceline said.  
  
"No, it's okay." Bonnibel couldn't care less if she was late.  
  
Bonnibel heard some more shuffling. "Okay, I'm ready," Marceline said at last. Bonnibel turned to her and saw that her hair was sticking up from the other side.  
  
"You could really use a brush," she said with a smirk.

Marceline run her hand through her hair, making it even messier. "Fuck that," she stated.  
  
Bonnibel couldn't keep the stupid smile from her face. "Yeah and… _fuck_ this place," she said, stuttering a bit at the swearword. Bonnibel never swore.  
  
Marceline laughed, but there was no maliciousness in her voice. They smiled at each other as they walked to the main building.  
  
They were scolded for being late and missing the prayer. The breakfast consisted of oatmeal, that looked and tasted like glue, sugar free graham crackers and no coffee.  
  
"I bet they're feeding us tasteless foods to lessen our sexual urges," Marceline whispered to her ear.  
  
Bonnibel giggled. "That's what graham crackers were originally for," she whispered back.  
  
"Really?" Marceline yelped, forgetting to keep quiet.  
  
"I'm dead serious."  
  
They finished the breakfast and went outside where the group therapy session was held. They were divided into boys' and girls' groups, girl group consisting of only the four of them, while there were more than ten boys.  
  
Miss Gary led them to the riverbank. "In this exercise you need to take pairs. I am going to give you these forms, and then you interview your pair and write down the answers. In this way you get to know each other better, and later I can analyze your answers and figure out what kind of help you need." She glanced at them, looking at Bonnibel and Marceline a bit longer than was necessary. "Looks like we've got pairs then," she said finally.  
  
The interview started with names and ages: Marceline was three months older than Bonnibel.  
  
"Where were you born?" Bonnibel asked next.  
  
"In Alexandria, in Egypt," Marceline said.  
  
"How old were you when you moved to the States?" Bonnibel asked, even though it was not on the form.  
  
"Just a baby, I don't remember anything about it." Marceline sounded like she didn't want to talk about it. "What about you, where were you born?"  
  
"Here in Michigan, near Detroit," Bonnibel answered. "I still live in the same place."  
  
"Okay, next one is names and occupations of your parents," Marceline continued.  
  
"My dad, William Bubblegum, runs Candy Kingdom, though it's my mother who owns the company, she inherited it from her father. Umm… my mother Lisa mostly organizes parties I guess, and does some PR stuff. I'm not really sure."  
  
"Wow," Marceline said, staring at her. "So you're like, the princess of Candy Kingdom?"  
  
Bonnibel laughed. "I guess so. So what about your parents?"  
  
Marceline looked thoughtful. "I don't know anything about my father except his name, Hunson Abadeer. My mom's name was Sumaira, she died when I was three, but Simon says she did some waitressing and worked at a laundromat."  
  
"I'm sorry," Bonnibel said awkwardly. "Who's Simon?" she continued after a pause.  
  
"Oh, he… he was my mom's boyfriend. He took care of me when she died but… he's not around anymore so." Marceline stared towards the river.  
  
"Do you think I should write about him too?" Bonnibel asked. "He's kind of your family too, right?"  
  
"I don't really care what you write there. But yeah, he's the only dad I ever had."  
  
"So what is his profession then?" Bonnibel asked, jotting down "Simon" under Sumaira.  
  
"Uh, he was studying to be an antiquarian but I don't think he ever graduated. He had a lot of different jobs."  
  
"What's his last name?"  
  
"Petrikov." Bonnibel made her spell that.

"So, Princess, why are you here?" Marceline continued, going back to the questionnaire.  
  
"Uhh… I don't know actually. I mean, I'm not… My mother didn't tell me about this place, I only found out when I came here. And… I'm not a lesbian so I don't know what's the point. Like, I wouldn't want to be here even if I was but… Yeah, I think maybe mother didn't like it when I dyed my hair or something."  
  
Marceline jotted something down. "Let me see!" Bonnibel said, snatching the paper from her hand. Marceline had written: "Mother drew conclusions from the pink hair. In my opinion she's right."  
  
"Hey! That's… inaccurate!" Bonnibel said in the lack of a better response.

Marceline had a smug smile on her face.  
  
"So what's your reason then?"  
  
Marceline's face fell. "My foster mother caught me kissing her daughter. So, she told me I'm corrupting Ann and sent me here. Even though the whole thing was her idea in the first place…"  
  
Bonnibel nodded and wrote: "Caught kissing another girl. Was sent here against her will."  
  
"So… is Ann your girlfriend?" Bonnibel asked before she could stop herself.  
  
"Oh, no," Marceline shook her head, sending her hair flying. "We were just… I mean after we got caught she told her mother that I had forced her and that she'd never… you know. So it's kind of her fault I'm here." Marceline sounded spiteful.  
  
"That's awful. I'm so sorry," Bonnibel said the second time during the interview.  
  
"So," Marceline continued with a smirk, "do you identify as homosexual?"  
  
"Nope," Bonnibel said with an air of finality.  
  
"So you're straight then? Bisexual?" Marceline pried.  
  
"I guess I'm straight. I've never really thought about it," Bonnibel said, feeling like she was led to a trap.  
  
"Straight as in dreaming about tall, dark and handsome stranger? Like keeping *N Sync poster on your wall? Worshipping Johnny Depp?" Marceline continued.  
  
"No, none of that…"  
  
Marceline nodded and made notes. Bonnibel bended over to see that she'd written: "in denial". Bonnibel huffed, but she couldn't find it in her to be angry for real.  
  
"How about you then?" she asked.  
  
"Well, I'm bisexual," Marceline said, surprising her.  
  
"Oh. I didn't know that was a thing," Bonnibel said, confused.  
  
"Of course it is," Marceline said, "like I've only recently realized that some people actually are, you know, straight or gay. I don't really know how that works." Marceline tilted her head and looked at Bonnibel, who had to drop her gaze. Bonnibel had no idea how these things worked either.  
  
They continued listing their favorite foods (Marceline's was meatloaf which made Bonnibel wince, she herself favoring vegetarian sushi) then about hobbies, Marceline claiming she had none ("well ok, I play bass sometimes"), about their first childhood memories (Marceline's was her mother putting a bandaid to her knee, Bonnibel's playing with her dolls alone upstairs when her parents were in a business meeting downstairs). The next question was about friends, Marceline listing a lot of people she knew, some from playing in different punk and rock bands, some having been her foster siblings in one family or another. "I don't have any friends," Bonnibel said.  
  
"Why?" Marceline asked, sounding genuinely confused.  
  
Bonnibel shrugged. "I don't really identify with anyone at my school. I mean, I like chemistry and playing guitar. I don't do much else. I have no interest in… whatever the other people are doing. And being a girl who's good at science doesn't really make me popular. A lot of people wanted to befriend me because my family is rich I guess, but they got bored quickly."  
  
"But you're like, super nice. And you play damn well! They're all stupid if they don't want to be your friend," Marceline blabbed, making Bonnibel blush.  
  
"Whatever. Maybe you're just weird?" Bonnibel said, grinning.  
  
"I'm weird for you, Princess," Marceline answered with mock seriousness. "What was the first record you bought?"  
  
Bonnibel blushed deeper. "Uh… t.A.T.u.'s 200 km/h in the wrong lane," she muttered.  
  
Marceline snorted. "I bought it for the music!" Bonnibel exclaimed.  
  
Marceline rolled her eyes. "Yeah right. So which one is your favorite, Lena or Yulia?"  
  
"Yulia, definitely," Bonnibel said.  
  
"Everyone always says so. I like Lena more, she has a better voice."  
  
"True," Bonnibel said, _but Yulia is hotter_ , she thought.  
  
"So Marcy, what was the first record you bought?"  
  
"Up Your Alley by the Blackhearts," Marceline answered. "I bought it totally for the music. And because Joan Jett is hot." She smirked.  
  
They finished the questionnaires and gave them back to Miss Gary. There was still time before lunch, so Marceline disappeared to the woods again and Bonnibel went to the cabin to get her guitar.  
  
She sat down on a log by the river, tuning her instrument. The changing temperature made it slightly out of key all the time, and Bonnibel had a very good ear for music. A few guys sat next to her, one of them being Abracadaniel, who was called Dan when he was not performing, a boy called Manfried and the one who had been wearing a dress yesterday. Today he had violet micro shorts, a black top with yellow stars and his long, curly hair was gathered above his head with glittering hairpins.  
  
"I'm Lucy, but everyone calls me LSP," he, _no_ , Bonnibel thought, _she_ introduced herself.  
  
"As in Lucy in the sky with p…" Manfried deadpanned, but LSP interrupted him with: "No, actually it comes from Lucy Shoshannah Perez, you know, my name!"  
  
Dan chuckled, but Manfried remained expressionless. Bonnibel wondered if he ever showed any emotion.  
  
"Ugh, _boys_ ," LSP said to Bonnibel, rolling her eyes. "I know right," she answered with similar expression.  
  
Bonnibel strummed her guitar, trying to decide what to play. "Can you play some Beatles songs?" Dan asked.  
  
"Yeah, my teacher is obsessed with British rock. I can play ninety nine percent of everything they've ever recorded," Bonnibel answered, exaggerating only slightly.  
  
"Cool!" he answered, and Bonnibel was surprised she wasn't called uppity bitch like usually after such statements.

She pondered for awhile and decided to play I've Just Seen a Face, because that was simple but nice, and she didn't feel like trying something complicated at the moment. She exaggerated the country elements in the song, attempting to sing it in a low dudeish voice. Marceline walked back from the woods just as she was singing the line "for other girls were never quite like this", and Bonnibel accidentally hit a wrong chord. As soon as she got back to key she sung the chorus in particularly douche manner to hide her bafflement.  
  
Marceline sat down next to her, and Dan and LSP started to chime in with requests, none of which Bonnibel could pay attention to. Marceline was looking at her like she was reading her mind, and Bonnibel fought to keep her expression neutral. She felt like she had had a revelation: she'd never felt like this for anyone before, and she could not imagine falling for a boy like she was undeniably falling for Marceline. _No, not falling, definitely gone already_ , she thought as Marceline bumped her shoulder against Bonnibel's, saying: "Don't listen to LSP, play Smoke on the Water!"  
  
 _I guess I'm a lesbian then_ , she thought, feeling a hysterical giggle trying to break through. _Without people trying to de-gay me I might have never even realized!_  
  
Bonnibel smiled to herself. "Ok, I'll play Yesterday, but only because you asked me to," she said sweetly to LSP and strummed her guitar in earnest, ignoring Marceline, who moaned: "That's so lame, Princess!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What Manfried said to LSP was not ok, he's an ignorant douchebag in here. Maybe he'll grow up, we'll see.
> 
> Fortunately I have no personal experience in de-gaying, so this camp most probably doesn't reflect the actual reality. Again if there are some mistakes or problematic shit please let me know!
> 
> Chapter title comes from I've Just Seen a Face, which is a very cheesy love song by Paul McCartney. He has made a lot of those.
> 
> Also some of this stuff is directly from But I'm a Cheerleader, because it's one of my favorite films :D I'm not ashamed, I'm owning it, ok. Besides there are _multiple_ differences as you have probably noticed. This is my ultimate Teenagers and Forbidden Love fantasy story tbh.
> 
> Next chapter takes place in current timeline and it's from Marceline's POV. Yay ~~


	3. It's over when you wake up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea I could write this fast! But this chapter is kinda short, so that might explain it.
> 
> Chapter warnings: alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of child neglect and drug abuse

**2013**

 

Saturday morning found Marceline still wearing yesterdays clothes, passed out in starfish position on the middle of the bed. It was raining outside, water making a tapping sound on the window. Marceline sighed and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 11:47.  _Oh shit._

She was supposed to open her store at midday on Saturdays, but it was not like the customers were going to stand in line on the street at 12 o'clock sharp. Or at least she hoped so. Marceline got up and walked unsteadily to the bathroom.

She glanced at the mirror and sighed. She looked like death. Marceline was never very pale, but her skin, that usually had a healthy golden glow, looked grey and the bags under her eyes were dark like bruises. She peeled of her clothes that smelled like cigarettes, yesterday's booze and puke, luckily not hers, and stepped into shower.

Under the warm spray of water she tried to remember what had happened. Bonnibel had been there. She was just as dorky and adorable as Marceline had imagined, blabbing about science which Marceline knew nothing about. But she had also seemed more serious and withdrawn as she had been as a teenager, she was now all sad sighs and snappy comments.

Marceline couldn't believe Bonnibel didn't play guitar anymore. It was like she had ceased breathing.

So, they had danced. And then Marceline had to go and spoil everything again by kissing her. Marceline banged her head to the tile wall. How could she be so stupid? But Bonnibel had been right there, with her pink cheeks and flustered expression, plump mouth hanging half open, looking like she'd beed drawn by Milo Manara, and all rational thought had left Marceline's head.

"I'm sorry, I thought we could start over! Please don't go!" she had shouted to her back, but Bonnibel hadn't even flinched.

Figures she still held a grudge. Marceline had said pretty nasty things to her, being so young and arrogant, and to sixteen-year-old Marceline Bonnibel had seemed like she had everything: money, family, a promise of a bright future. Like she didn't give a shit about what some loser, homeless punk thought about her.

Finn and Jake had left pretty soon after the girls, and Marceline had had the other great idea of the night, which was getting utterly wasted and forgetting entirely about Bonnibel. She had accomplished the first one and failed spectacularly at the second. She remembered letting some greasy metalhead by her drinks till the closing time. She had most certainly cried messily on his shoulder. And the guy had puked all over himself and Marceline's shoes when they had waited for the taxi, and then almost passed out on the backseat. So, Marceline had made sure he got home first and then she had gotten to her apartment and passed out, alone. Thank God.

Marceline washed herself and stepped out of the shower. She swallowed a couple of aspirins she kept at the cabinet under the bathroom sink. After she had washed her teeth she was starting to feel like a human being again.

She wandered to the kitchen, dripping water all over her tiny apartment. She opened the fridge and found only a single apple on the shelf. Why had she put the fruit on the fridge anyways? She bit eagerly into it, and put a mug of water in the microwave oven to get coffee. Marceline only had the cheapest instant crap, but she had never been picky.

She went back to the other room that served as both bedroom and living room, and dug some clothes out of the closet. Baggy black sweatpants and a red hoodie seemed like a perfect choice: she could hide inside her clothes and have absolutely no-one looking at her twice.

Marceline spent next five minutes looking for her keys (they must be somewhere because she had gotten in last night), and when she finally found them inside her shoe, she was ready to grab the coffee and go.

Marceline's record store, Nightosphere, was in the same building. She couldn't believe she owned her own business: she may not love her father, but she loved what his money could buy. Marceline was determined to pay every penny back to him, one day. Her store was doing pretty well already, and she had started to save the profits. After all, owing a favor to Hunson Abadeer was like having made a deal with the Devil, and family was no exception.

It was twenty past twelve when Marceline opened the door of her store, accompanied by a soaking wet and very annoyed customer. "It says on the sign that you open at twelve! Give me the number of your boss, I want to make a complaint!" the man nagged.

Marceline finished turning the key and held the door open for him. "I happen to own this place," she said, and marched off behind the counter.

"Well you, little miss, have a lot to learn about keeping a business!" the man snapped. Marceline groaned inwardly. The middle aged men were the worst, even worse than the teenagers who tried to steal the CDs they couldn't afford.

She shuffled through the stack of records she had next to her player, choosing the newest album by Gossip. She loved Beth Ditto, and the added bonus was that there was nothing like fat lesbian punk singer that annoyed the men who came here looking for King Crimson's original vinyls or some shit.

Marceline spent most of her Saturday and Sunday mornings driving around, looking for garage sales to purchase vinyls, CD's and even C-cassettes, and the second hand records were the thing that drew most of her customers. Nowadays her customers had started to sell her their own records too, making it easier for Marceline to keep her selection interesting. It was amazing what some people had in their homes.

Marceline also made sure she had almost all the self published punk and indie music from the area, as well as some interesting imported records. She was very proud of her store, even on the mornings like this.

"You have your categories all mixed up! Joy Division is not post-punk, it's new wave!" the man scolded her. Marceline slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze.

"This is my store. I know exactly where I want my records, thank you very much. Besides, you're wrong, so shut up," Marceline snapped. She sipped her already cold coffee.  _This is going to be a long day_ , she thought tiredly.

She hummed along the lyrics of Perfect World, hearing the man leave the store without buying anything. What a surprise.

The next two hours passed slowly, with mostly just some hipsters shuffling through her "just in" section. At half three Marceline put a lunch break sign on the door and walked to the diner around the corner. She had the biggest and greasiest portion they had, gulping it down with a large beer.

Jake and Finn came in a half hour before closing time. They chatted a while about the show, and the fact that Marceline most definitely was a full member of the band now. Finn asked her if she had any more songs she wanted to add to their repertoire, and Marceline nodded.

"I've got some other songs too… they are kinda personal though. I'm not sure if they're any good."

Marceline felt Jake's piercing gaze on her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She knew what he wanted to ask, but couldn't while Finn was there.

They talked about other things for awhile, and then Finn went to check the second hand records, allowing Jake to interrogate Marceline.

"So, what happened yesterday?" he asked.

Marceline decided to play innocent. "What do you mean?" she asked back.

"You know what. You and Bubblegum. She was very upset, you know, I've never seen her like that," Jake elaborated.

 _Ugh_. Why did he have to know everything? "Nothing happened. I guess she was just drunk, like she wasn't herself," Marceline said, carefully keeping her tone indifferent.

"Huh. Well are you okay? You seemed pretty upset too," he continued, clearly not believing her.

"I'm fine, just hung over," Marceline assured.

"Yeah, well Lady called and said that… oh shit, I wasn't supposed to tell you!"

"What did she say?" Marceline asked, feeling sick kind of hope. She wished that Bonnibel wanted to meet her. Or that she had screamed and thrown dishes and cried. Anything, as long as Princess at least thought of her.

"Nothing," Jake said, "absolutely nothing," he repeated as Finn returned.

"So, I'm working tomorrow?" Finn ensured one more time.

"Yeah, from twelve to six. And after that we'll have a rehearsal at your place?"

"Yeah!" Finn said. Marceline finished up with her work and closed the door, giving the key to Finn.

"See you guys tomorrow!" Marceline said.

"Bye!" Finn said cheerfully while Jake uttered: "till tomorrow" with much less glee.

Back in her apartment Marceline remembered that she still had no food. She sighed as her stomach rumbled.

In the grocery store Marceline filled her cart with everything edible in sight. She had spend most of her childhood and teenage years never knowing where she would get her next meal, so now as an adult she fulfilled every fantasy about food she'd ever had. Sometimes when she started to eat she thought she could never stop, and other times she forgot to buy food and sustained herself with nothing but black coffee for days.

When she had filled her stomach with a TV dinner (Marceline didn't cook, ever), ready made shrimp and mayo sandwich and ice cream, she went to dig Simon's old backpack. Even as she had been living in the same place for two years now, she still kept all the things she didn't want to lose in there, in case she'd have to hit the road again. The backpack was the only permanent thing in her life. She shuffled through a couple of pockets before finding what she was looking for: piece of paper that was folded to a small square. It was actually an empty page ripped from a book, with a single telephone number written in a fancy, bubbly handwriting of a teenage girl.

Marceline bit her lower lip as she composed the text message, settling on: **Bonnie, I'm sorry. Please call me. -Marcy**. She took a deep breath and clicked send.

Minutes ticked by, but Marceline received no answer. She had no way of knowing if Bonnibel had changed her number, or if she simply chose to ignore her. She didn't know which one was worse, and she had no guts to call the number to find out.

Marceline spent the evening looking at mindless reality TV and checking her phone every five minutes. Sometimes before midnight her eyelids began to droop, and she dozed off a couple of times before turning the TV off and dragging herself to bathroom to wash her teeth. That night she slept badly, having nightmares about Simon, about a post-apocalyptic city where there were only the two of them left alive and Simon was slowly losing his mind. And Marceline was just a little girl and couldn't do anything. But in her dream she knew Simon chose to become insane to protect her from monsters that were lurking in every corner.

She woke up with tears in her eyes. It was an old nightmare of hers, and parts of it were true. She had no idea where Simon was now, and weather or not he remembered her. The last time she'd seen him had been over ten years ago, when he had been forced to go to rehab (even though psychiatric ward would have been a better place for him), and she had been taken to foster care. It had taken her a long time to realize that all the monsters had been in Simon's head, and even longer to understand that the scariest monsters were just people, like herself.

And Hunson Abadeer.

Marceline checked her phone again (no missed calls and no new messages, it was 2:39 in the morning) and padded to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.

Before falling a sleep again she thought that maybe monsters like herself weren't supposed to be with nice people like Bonnibel. That maybe Bonnie was right, and she was making a mistake in trying to make up with her.

Then again, Bonnibel wasn't always the nice and polite girl she appeared to be.

 

Marceline spent the Sunday morning as usual, driving around looking for garage sales. It was the middle of April, so there wasn't much anything yet, so she didn't find anything worth buying. She ended up shuffling through her favorite second hand stores, buying some clothes and a Best of Abba C-cassette. The Abba tape was practically free so she couldn't help herself.

Her pick-up was so ancient she had only a cassette player in it. She listened to the tape driving back home. The sound was good enough, so she could definitely at least try sell it.

Back home she warmed herself a frozen pizza, eating it all at once. She contemplated going downstairs to hang out with Finn, but decided against it. The boy was a much better worker when she wasn't stalking on him.

Marceline spent the remaining time playing through some of her songs. As she had said yesterday, they were all very personal: they were about Simon, her father and the time she had spent in Egypt, about her failed relationship with Ash and one was even about Haven, called We Don't Need No Fixing. She couldn't bring herself play the song about Bonnibel she had written right after the camp, not even now as she was alone in her apartment. It was too raw, both too loving and too mean. It was about how she wanted to drink her blood and kill her slowly and bury her in the ground. And how she wanted to lay right next to her and fall asleep and never wake up. It was from the period in her life when she had only thought about death, blood and torture, and even if the song sounded a slightly too over the top now, Marceline still thought that there was something interesting about it. Maybe it was the sweet, lullaby-like melody, or possibly the fact that she was, despite having been a dramatic teenager, somehow very honest in the song.

Marceline realized she'd lost the track of time when she heard Finn ringing the doorbell.

"You coming or what?" he asked.

"Wait a sec. I gotta gather my stuff first," she answered. She grabbed her notebooks but left the one with I Wanna Bury You in the Ground in the cupboard for the time being. She put her bass in it's case. The sky outside was covered in dark clouds, so Marceline put on a warmer coat and a covered her head with a beanie she'd found from goodwill a few weeks ago.

Finn chuckled at the sight.

"Hey, don't judge!" Marceline exclaimed. The beanie had purple, neon yellow and bright red stripes, and there was a huge pompom bouncing on top of it. "I'm channeling my inner hipster so that I can play with you guys."

"Yeah right," Finn answered with a grin.

They got into the car and Finn's eyes started to shine with excitement when he heard the first notes of Take a Chance on Me. They sung along on the top of their lungs the whole drive to Finn and Jake's. Marceline had forgotten how fun Abba was. Maybe she should keep the tape herself.

The front yard was filled with all imaginable plants, growing however they chose. It was still early spring, so the sight was a bit miserable, but Marceline could imagine how lush and nice it'd look in the summer. She had met Finn last November when she'd hired him to help around the store on weekends and evenings, so she had never seen their garden in the summer. Finn had told her it was like a jungle. Their backyard blended in with the endless forest: their house was the last beacon of civilization.

The music room was downstairs. BMO and Jake were already there jamming when Marceline and Finn stepped in.

"Took you two long enough," Jake remarked, but not unkindly.

"Yeah, sorry. I got a bit carried away I guess. But I have the songs for you, as promised." Marceline fumbled with the zipper of her bass case, suddenly very self-conscious. What if her songs weren't any good? She'd never played these ones to anyone.

She started with Make Your Own Sandwiches, the break up song about Ash. She shushed her friends before they had a chance to say anything. She had to play them all at once or she'd lose her courage. Next she played a song called The Real Monster is Me, which was mostly about Simon and herself. The last one was just a little draft called Not Just Your Little Girl, which she had written in Egypt. She thought about singing the Haven song, but that was still a bit too personal.

"Uh, that last one needs a little bit of work still, but that's like the core of the song. So, what do you guys think?"

"I like them very much!" BMO declared. Marceline smiled, relieved.

"Yeah!" Finn agreed, nodding frantically.

"Yeah, Marceline, they're very good. Do you have the notes with you?" Jake asked.

"Oh, yeah, here" Marceline said, handing the notebook over to Jake.

They started to work on the two complete songs, deciding to leave the draft for later. Just as Jake had started to get the viola figured out in the monster song, the doorbell rung.

Marceline felt all the blood draining from her face. What if it was Bonnibel?

Jake went to open the door. Marceline listened intensely, hearing only Lady's and Jake's voices. Her heart hammered in her chest.

They stepped into the room, and Marceline kept looking behind them, hopeful and terrified.

"She didn't come," Lady said, "and I want to talk to you, Marceline." There was something threatening about her voice.

"Well, shoot," Marceline urged, leaning backwards in her chair, in attempt to seem to be at ease. She could tell Lady wanted to talk to her alone, but maybe she'd be nicer with everyone else listening.

"I don't know what you did, but you have no right to treat her like that! You lied to me, you said Bonnibel was your friend! And then you go and..." Lady didn't finish her sentence.

"And what? What exactly do you think I did?" Marceline snarled, getting angrier every second.

"I don't know, she wouldn't tell me!" Lady had raised her voice too. Finn and BMO stared at them with their mouths open. Jake was looking at them both in turns like watching a tennis match.

"Well, maybe Bonnibel is not as perfect as you think! Have you considered that she might be the one to blame!" Marceline yelled.

"She's the kindest, most sympathetic person I've ever met! I've never seen her like this before,"  _and it's your fault_ , her tone implied. "I've never seen her cry before."

"That's because she's a cold-hearted little princess! She's the one who broke my heart, did you know that?" Marceline was not supposed to let that one out. Well, she didn't care anymore. Marceline started to gather her things with shaking hands.

"I bet she didn't tell you anything! You all think you know her, but you don't!" Marceline grabbed her bass and stepped out. "See you around Finn, BMO," she called and stalked off. She was angry at Jake too. Marceline was sure he and Lady had talked about her behind her back. About how much she had hurt Bonnibel, about how she wasn't good enough for the princess.

She drove her car home too fast, turning off the cassette player as Knowing Me Knowing You started to play. She had tears in her eyes.

 _Bonnibel should be the one to apologize_ , she thought.  _And why does she hide behind her friends like a coward?_

Marceline parked her car and dug a cigarette pack from the glovebox. She didn't smoke anymore, except when she was out partying or especially stressed out. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The nicotine calmed her nerves, but made her eyes water even more.

Marceline was not crying. It was just the smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are probably multiple errors in this one, because I was typing so fast. Umm I'm sorry about them, it's just that I don't really see the mistakes myself, so there isn't much I can do.
> 
> The chapter title comes from Perfect World by Gossip.
> 
> I haven't decided what to do with the next chapter (I have two possible chapters in mind and I don't know which one comes first yet), so I can't tell you. But whatever I do, it will not be as angsty as this one, I promise.
> 
> If you've got anything at all to say, please leave a comment! I'd love to hear from you!


	4. People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback from Marceline's POV.
> 
> Warnings: ex-gay movement, homophobia, cissexism, transmisogyny, abuse (not physical), mentions of child abuse

**2006**  
  
"Miss Gary, there is something I'd like to discuss with the group," Bonnibel said. Marceline knew what was coming, she had heard Bonnibel carefully composing her argument last night.

  "By all means," Miss Gary answered, voice full of false sweetness.  
  
"You see, I have found that eating meat increases my… inappropriate thoughts. Vegetarian food is much lighter, and it helps to keep my mind pure. I actually become vegetarian after reading about Graham diet, where no meat and no spicy food is allowed, only fresh vegetables and whole wheat. The results are really fascinating, for instance in 1830's…" Miss Gary raised her hand.  
  
"We don't need the whole lecture, thank you. So, if that is true, miss Bubblegum, why are so many sodomites in fact vegetarian?" Miss Gary looked pleased with herself.  
  
Marceline could see the wheels turning in Bonnibel's head. "I think that might be a subconscious way for them to try and control their urges. But the diet as such, without therapy, doesn't really help. However, I do think that for my personal development…"  
  
Miss Gary interrupted Bonnibel again. "So you're saying that good, honest, home made food in fact makes people homosexual? I assure you, there is nothing wrong in the way Americans have been eating for centuries. I agree with you that fast food is very unhealthy, but this traditional food we eat here cannot possibly create any problems. It is as pure and nutritional as it gets. In fact we use some of the recipes of my very own grandmother here."  
  
Marceline wanted to gag. Even she could tell that the food sucked, and she had absolutely no standards. She could see Bonnibel flinch.  
  
"I apologize, miss. I had no intentions to insult the food. I just want to get cured, and I thought diet might be helpful," Bonnibel said with defeated tone.  
  
"We have a common goal then," Miss Gary said with an air of finality. "Does anyone else have anything they'd like to share with the rest of us?" The quiet girls shook their heads. Miss Gary's gaze met Marceline's. "Miss Abadeer?"  
  
"No, miss." She hated how she was always singled out. During the first couple of days Marceline had made it very clear that she was not interested in de-gaying herself, which she now regretted. She should have kept her head down, because now everyone was on a mission to save her soul or something.  
  
"All right, off you go then. Dinner is in ten minutes."  
  
The group therapy sessions were held upstairs in the main building on rainy days like this. They ascended to the dining room, where a familiar smell of overcooked vegetables and meat greeted them.  
  
"Her grandmother's recipes!" Bonnibel whispered to Marceline, who snorted.  
  
"She must have been even more awful old hag!" she whispered back.  
  
"I bet she forced Miss Gary to eat this crap when she was a kid."  
  
"And now she's paying it forward," Marceline concluded. They snickered.  
  
"Sucks that your speech didn't work out though," Marceline said.  
  
Bonnibel shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Maybe if I get anemia my parents will come and get me off here."  

"Or, we could run away,” Marceline said, making Bonnibel laugh.  
  
"Yeah right, where to? We're in the middle of nowhere, with no money, no cell phones, nothing," she reasoned.  
  
Marceline didn't say how serious she actually was. She had a plan, of sorts, but she couldn't just say it. Not here, anyway. "So you're chickening?" she asked instead with a teasing tone.  
  
"I'm not! Just, there's no point," Bonnibel said.  
  
"No point in what?" they heard a voice behind them. It was LSP, who sat down next to them.

"Nothing," Marceline said hastily. LSP didn't seem to be too curious though, because she started to talk immediately.  
  
"So, you know, all these guys are obsessed with me. Like, they pretend they're not because I'm a girl but like, I can totally tell. But I am not going to sleep with gay dudes any more, you know," she said, pausing to wait for a comment. Marceline noted that Mary was listening intensely from the other side of the table. She wasn't sure if the boys were obsessed with LSP, but there was one girl who certainly was.  
  
"Have you then?" Marceline asked LSP to amuse her.  
  
"Yeah, my last boyfriend, Brad, was like super gay. He always went on about how he's, like, a gold star gay, never touched a woman, never even thought about a woman, never voluntarily been in the same room with a woman. And I'm like, hel-lo? You're sleeping with one!" Marceline laughed, mostly because Mary was blushing fiercely.  
  
"What did he say then?" she asked.  
  
"Well, you know, he's like you're not really a woman blah blah blah, so I broke up with him, obviously. But I totally took that lumping star off him, so that's something…" LSP's voice trailed off. Reverend Lich's appearance had that effect on everyone: no one dared to speak in his presence.  
  
Dinner started with a prayer, as always. Marceline was pretty certain her parents had been Muslims, and in any case she was anything but Christian. She hadn't known anything about the Bible before having a long line of Christian foster homes, and she associated the religion with boring Sunday masses and stupid songs.  
  
Bonnibel and Marceline shared their food, like they always did. Marceline was actually concerned that Bonnibel would get anemia: she basically lived off potato and bread.  
  
"Yay, broccoli!" Bonnibel exclaimed happily, making several people around them turn their heads.  
  
"Uh, ok," Marceline said, dumping the said veggies to her plate.  
  
"Do you want mine too?" LSP asked, and Bonnibel nodded with her mouth full. She swallowed and said: "Broccoli has quite high protein content, compared to other vegetables. It's not much, I'd rather eat soy, but with this I might just live another day," she said cheerfully.  
  
"Take my broccoli too!" Dan said. Bonnibel nodded again, chewing happily.  
  
"You look like a hamster," Marceline laughed. Bonnibel filled her cheeks with air and looked a Marceline with raised brows.  
  
"Oh, stop it," Marceline said, chuckling. "Cute hamster," she continued in low voice, poking her cheek.  
  
Startled, Bonnibel blowed the air out. She blushed, looking down at the mountain of broccoli in front of her. Marceline grinned.  
  
Tonight wasn't a campfire night, so after dinner they returned to the cabins to do the homework. Today's homework was a list of features that an ideal husband (for girls) or wife (for boys and LSP) should have, and what are your duties as a husband or wife. Mary and Susan were at work, dutifully as always. Bonnibel grinned at Marceline, grabbing her guitar.  
  
"We shouldn't bother Susan and Mary, let's go to LSP's cabin," she said. "I think she can help us, she knows what boys were told about duties and stuff."  
  
"Yeah, ok," Marceline agreed, smiling. LSP shared cabin with Dan and Manfried, who were apparently the only boys here completely against their will. Hanging out with the three of them was a relief. Mary lifted her head, looking at them enviously. Susan frowned.  
  
"When you're done you could come too," Bonnibel said.  
  
"I'd rather not," Susan said determinedly. Mary let out a disappointed sigh.  
  
They stepped outside. It was still raining.

”Mary so has a crush in LSP!" Marceline said as soon as the door closed behind them.  

Bonnibel chuckled. "Yeah, I've noticed. I think she's straight though.”  
  
"We should ask her. For Mary's sake…" Marceline said.  
  
"Oh, shush. We're not going to stick our noses to her business," Bonnibel said primly. Her voice should have annoyed Marceline, but she found herself smiling instead.  
  
"Just to help her out, you know?"  
  
Bonnibel huffed.  
  
They knocked on the door of the cottage.  
  
"Come in!" Dan's voice called from inside.  
  
The cabin was warm. Marceline and Bonnibel sat on the vacant bed. "So, are you guys done with your homework yet?" Marceline asked.  
  
"Uh, no, not really," Dan said, "I literally can't imagine myself marrying a woman, no offense."  
  
LSP said: "I'm almost done describing an ideal wife. Listen: beautiful, sassy, killer fashion sense, intelligent, don't take no bullshit… oh wait, that's me!" Everyone laughed, even Manfried chuckled a little.  
  
"And… husbands duties are obviously like, to buy me lots of stuff, and… do as I say. Yeah, that's about it. Done." LSP slammed her notebook shut with a smug expression.  
  
"Hey Princess, why don't you describe your ideal wife to me, so I can write it down. I'll tell you about the ideal man and you can write that then?" Dan held his pen expectantly over his notebook.  
  
Bonnibel blushed. "Uh… I really don't know." She was trying to avoid everyone's eyes.  
  
After the first day Bonnibel had started to openly call herself a lesbian. It was hardly surprising to Marceline: there was certain indifference Bonnibel showed towards all the boys, even the insanely good looking ones, that had made it obvious. Even though she was open about her orientation now, she hadn't revealed anything else. No schoolgirl crushes or favorite actresses, let alone an ex girlfriend: the only person Marceline knew she found hot was Yulia Volkova, and everyone liked her.  
  
Which meant that Marceline was extremely curious. "Come on, tell us! What kind of girls do you like? Have you had a crush on anyone?"  
  
Bonnibel mumbled something, looking at her lap. Marceline bended over to her, tilting her head to look at her face from below. "I didn't get that," she said.  
  
"Marceline, you're insufferable!" she snapped."I don't know okay! I guess I'll know when I meet her, or something," she said.  
  
"Okay, whatevs," Marceline sighed.  
  
"You tell us Marceline, what do you like about girls?" Manfried asked.  
  
It was her turn to feel her cheeks heating. "Uh… I guess I like it when girls are pretty. I like nice lips. And like, long hair. And umm… you've gotta be smart. Funny. I like girls who blush… and I dunno…" Manfried and Dan glanced at each other, sharing a smirk.  
  
"So, you have a crush on anyone?" Dan pressed.  
  
"No," Marceline said, too quickly. She tried not to look at Bonnibel.  
  
The truth was she had liked the girl since the first day. The first thing Marceline had noticed about her was that she was really pretty. Bonnibel had a round face, a cute little pug nose with faint freckles on it and soft, hazel brown eyes. She was probably also the smartest person Marceline had ever met: she remembered everything she had ever read, and the girl read a lot. Sometimes Marceline felt so stupid compared to her. But Bonnibel wasn't mean about it, she was just so nerd she sometimes didn't realize that no-one else had any idea what she was talking about.  
  
Marceline was so immersed in her thoughts that she missed Dan's description of his ideal man. Bonnibel giggled and said: "you know what? You just described mr. Baxter!"  
  
"No I didn't!" Dan yelped.  
  
"Man, you kinda did," Manfried stated.  
  
"Up to the last hair on his head," LSP agreed.  
  
"Okay, so what if I did? You gotta admit he's hot," Dan said.  
  
Marceline nodded. "He kinda is, though he's also super annoying," she agreed.  
  
Bonnibel frowned. "I just… he's just so cheerful all the time, it seems fake. I don't get why everyone likes him."  
  
"That's cause you're gay," LSP said. "You can't see the gorgeousness that is mr. Baxter's muscular chest…"  
  
"Ugh, no," Bonnibel said, making a face. She had dropped the notebook on the bed and started to strum her guitar absently.  
  
"Please, play Penny Lane," Dan asked.  
  
Marceline shook her head. Everyone here had such an awful taste in music. Bonnibel complied, and Marceline was sure that she did so just to annoy her.  
  
"Gimme the guitar. I'll play something better," Marceline demanded as soon as Bonnibel had finished.  
  
"Ok, but be gentle with it…" Bonnibel reluctantly let go of the instrument.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. It's not the first time I've held a guitar you know?" Marceline took a deep breath. "Ok guys, here it comes…" She started playing, seeing a spark of recognition in Bonnibel's eyes almost at the first note. " _Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind / People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time_ …" She tried to pretend the delicate, acoustic instrument was in fact an electric guitar. She even hummed the solo.  
  
When she finished Bonnibel clapped her hands, laughing. "Oh my glob, you didn't just play Paranoid!" She stretched out her hands to get back the guitar.  
  
After that Bonnibel played some rather melancholic classical melodies Marceline didn't recognize. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, and Marceline caught herself staring at the other girl more than once.  
  
"I need to go out for a sec," Marceline said. She had still some cigarettes left, she had hidden them in all her pockets and to the hole in their ceiling and under her mattress in case some one her stashes was discovered. Bonnibel lifted her gaze. "I'll come with you," she said.  
  
Marceline was pretty certain Bonnibel knew she was smoking at this point, but she'd never actually smoked in her presence. She seemed like a nice, well bred girl, like she was above such bad habits. Marceline smirked. Maybe she could corrupt her.  
  
They stepped outside. It was dim but not dark yet, and there was still a bit drizzle in the air.  
  
"Come, we need to go to the woods," Marceline urged Bonnibel.  
  
They walked silently along the riverbank, far enough that no-one in the camp could see them. Bonnibel shivered.  
  
"Are you cold?" Marceline asked in hushed tone. She felt like talking loudly would spoil something, even though nobody could here them out there.  
  
"A bit," Bobbibel whispered.  
  
"Come here," she whispered back, wrapping her arm around Bonnibel's shoulder.  
  
Marceline was suddenly nervous, her hands were shaking as she lit a cigarette. She smoked slowly, blowing the smoke away from Bonnibel's face. "You wanna try?" she whispered.  
  
"Doesn't it taste bad?" Bonnibel asked. Her face was very close.  
  
"Maybe you should find out. Open your mouth." Bonnibel complied, staring Marceline right in the eye. She took a drag and blowed the smoke in Bonnibel's mouth without touching her lips.  
  
"Was it bad?" she whispered.  
  
Bonnibel's eyes were huge. "I think I need to try a bit more," she said, voice shaking slightly, and leaned forward to kiss Marceline for real.  
  
It was a bit clumsy but definitely awesome. Bonnibel's mouth was soft, and her lips moved experimentally over Marceline's. Marceline sighed, opening her mouth a bit more, kissing back. She dropped the cigarette and wrapped her other arm around Bonnibel too.  
  
Bonnibel's hands had grabbed the material of Marceline's anorak. She was getting more bold with her movements, opening her mouth to let Marceline's tongue in. Marceline's head was spinning, Bonnibel's mouth tasted a bit sweet but mostly just neutral, like water. Suddenly Bonnibel's tongue was in her mouth too, stroking over her teeth and tongue. She had clearly no idea what she was doing, but her enthusiasm covered what she lacked in talent.  
  
Finally they had to come out for air. Marceline tried to gather her thoughts. "So," she said huskily, "did you like it?"  
  
"Yeah," Bonnibel breathed. She lifted her hands to hold Marceline's cheeks. She pulled Marceline closer for another kiss. Marceline sucked her lower lip, nibbling a bit with her teeth. Bonnibel whimpered, running her hands through Marceline's hair. Marceline lowered her hands to the small of her back, bringing her closer. Even through their clothes she could feel her curves. Bonnibel copied Marceline's movements, sucking and licking her lower lip in turn. Marceline moaned. This was quickly becoming the best kiss she had ever had. She could feel herself getting aroused.  
  
It was Bonnibel who pulled away this time, resting her chin to Marceline's shoulder. Marceline stroked her hair, which had already lost some of its pink color, and planted a kiss on her neck.  
  
"We should get back," she whispered.  
  
"I don't want to," Bonnibel mumbled. She sighed. "But you're right." Bonnibel untangled herself from Marceline's embrace.  
  
"Your hair's a mess," Bonnibel said, smiling and leaning in to smooth it back to place. "There you go."  
  
Marceline wanted to hold her hand on the way back but knew she couldn't. They'd be in so much trouble if someone saw.  
  
Sandwiches were served in the main building, like every evening, and Marceline and Bonnibel slipped in just in time to get to the back of the line. Marceline felt like she couldn't even look at Bonnibel here, in front of everyone. She was afraid her face would reveal just what they were doing a minute ago. Bonnibel was avoiding looking at Marceline too.  
  
They didn't say another word to each other that night, except for the good night wishes. Marceline couldn't sleep for a long time, so she lay awake replaying the kisses in her head. Truth to be told, she much rather thought of that than fell asleep.  
  
In her dreams the monsters would come.  
  
  
  
Next day was probably the hottest day of the summer. It started already in the morning: Marceline woke up sweating, the sunlight from the window shining right on her. Everyone was wearing as little clothes as possible, and during the day Marceline found Bonnibel's legs and cleavage very distracting. The girl was wearing only a tiny, pale pink summer dress with spaghetti straps. Marceline herself cut a pair of her jeans into shorts. She usually always wore long legged pants: her legs got hairy so quickly that if she shaved them in the morning they'd show stubble in the afternoon. Marceline hadn't shaved in days, but couldn't find it in her to care. It was too hot to even think about wearing anything but shorts.  
  
Of the way Bonnibel was looking at her she deduced that she didn't find her leg hair repulsive at all.  
 

Marceline had her private therapy session with miss Gary between lunch and dinner. Marceline hated it. Miss Gary was convinced that something in Marceline's childhood had made her bisexual, and her questions were getting more and more invasive every time. In the heat her office smelled even worse than usual. A bumblebee was trapped inside, buzzing and then slamming itself against the window.  
Over and over again. _Bzzzz… tap. Bzzzzz… tap. Bzzzzz… zzzz… tap_. The air stood still.  
  
"So, how are we today?" miss Gary asked, resting her chin on her hand, leaning towards Marceline over the desk.  
  
"Uh. Fine I guess." Marceline tried to breath through her mouth.  
  
"Has anything out of ordinary happened?" Miss Gary's eyes were fixed on her, unblinking.  
  
 _There is no way she knows about me and Bonnie_. "No, nothing," Marceline said innocently.  
  
"So, tell me about this… Simon." Miss Gary tapped the paper on the desk with one of her long, crimson nails.  
  
"No." Marceline stared at the dying insect. Its flight was getting slower and slower, it could barely get back in the air after falling on the windowsill.  
  
"There must be a reason for you to be the way you are. What did he do to you, child? Did he hit you? Did he… touch you? Did he–"  
  
"NO!" Marceline screamed, standing up and knocking the chair over.  
  
"Aren't we angry today! I hit the nerve, did I? It's quite common for victims to..."  
  
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Marceline grabbed the nearest object, a snow globe with a penguin and an old, blue skinned man with a crown and threw it to the wall. It broke into pieces with a satisfying crack. Marceline panted, staring at Miss Gary, who looked at her with a small smile.  
  
"All right, I think that's it for today. Mr. Baxter will escort you to the small room to calm down." Marceline felt his iron grip on her arms. She considered kicking him on the balls, but all fight had left her. She was in enough trouble as it was.  
  
"Remember, we're on your side, Marceline," miss Gary said with a pitying look in her eyes.  
  
Marceline spitted on Miss Gary's face. "Never," she hissed.  
  
The small room was actually a closet under the stairs. There were no windows in there, and no lamp. Marceline heard the lock turning and she was left alone in the darkness. She paced in the small pace. _I got to get the fuck out of here, sooner rather than later_ , she thought. But first she needed allies, and a better plan.  
  
Marceline was released after dinner, but considering the food the punishment wasn't very bad. Marceline had been through worse, before. She returned straight to their cabin, where Bonnibel stared at her with big, questioning eyes.  
  
But before Marceline had a chance to talk to her LSP barged in with tears in her eyes. She was wearing gray sweatpants and a large, olive green t-shirt, something she'd never normally choose.  
  
"I… They took all my clothes, all my makeup, everything! Lich said they'll cut my hair if I don't start to behave like a man!" LSP sobbed.  
  
"Come here," Mary said, surprising them all. LSP flopped down on her bed, burying her head on her shoulder. Mary petted her hair, muttering "there, there," in soothing voice. Even Susan looked sympathetic.  
  
"Umm…" Susan started uncertainly, "I have some makeup if you'd like to borrow. Nothing much, only blue eyeshadow and mascara, but… would that make you feel better?" Marceline knew her surprise was written all over her face. Who knew Susan could be so compassionate?  
  
LSP lifted her head and nodded. She had snot running from her nose. "Y-yeah," she said.  
  
Bonnibel offered her a pink paper towel. "I only have lipgloss," she said.  
  
"I've got black eyeliner and concealer," Marceline chimed in. "Our skin tone is close enough."  
  
LSP blowed her nose noisily, offering them all a shaky smile.  
  
"I don't have anything," Mary said with a sad little voice.  
  
LSP smiled at her. "You're pretty enough without it," she assured, making Mary blush.  
  
They dumped all the cosmetics on Mary's bed while LSP dried her eyes.  
  
"You're all bunch of dykes," she said as she saw the small collection of cheap makeup. Marceline snorted.  
  
It took a while for LSP to stop sobbing and for her puffy eyes to return back to normal. They chatted about random things, films they'd seen and books they'd read. Nobody wanted to discuss the present situation.  
  
LSP was very talented with makeup. She sharpened Marceline's old, stubby eyeliner and drew the most symmetrical winged lines Marceline had ever seen.  
  
Later Marceline walked her back to her cottage. She stopped before they reached the building, grabbing both of her hands. Marceline glanced around, making sure they were alone.  
  
"Can you keep a secret?" she asked in low voice.  
  
"Yes," LSP whispered.  
  
"I have a plan. I'm gonna get out of here. Do you want to come with me?"  
  
LSP wrapped her arms around Marceline's waist, hugging her tightly. "Yeah, I do," she said and Marceline could hear she was close to tears again. She patted her back a bit awkwardly.  
  
"Shh, don't cry. You'll mess up your mascara," she said.  
  
LSP lifted her head. "You are the best, Marceline. Thanks for…"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Marceline said. "You better get going."  
  
"Good night," LSP said.  
  
"Night," Marceline answered. She walked to the woods to smoke a cigarette and drink a beer. She needed to be alone to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from Black Sabbath's Paranoid.
> 
> I promised this chapter was not gonna be very angsty, but oh well. There was some fluff though, wasn't there? The next chapter is on current timeline again, from Bonnie's POV.
> 
> I love kudos, but I'd like to see a comment or two too! So if there's anything at all you wanna say, say it. Do I use too many commas in wrong places? I'll never know If you don't tell me.


	5. People talking without speaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry this took me so long! My life has been kind of a mess lately, and I have been very busy with summer courses. I wish I could say I won't keep you folks waiting this long again but I honestly can't promise anything. But I do enjoy writing this story a lot so I will do my best to continue as soon as possible. And things will be slower in a month or so and I'll have more time.
> 
> Chapter warnings: emotionally abusive parents, low self esteem, body shaming

**2013**

Bonnibel stared at the words on her phone screen.  
  
**Bonnie, I'm sorry. Please call me. -Marcy**  
  
She found herself wondering if Marceline was usually this careful about capital letters and punctuation. Then another thought occurred: where had Marceline gotten her number? Was it possible that she'd kept it all these years? Or had someone given it to her?  
  
Bonnibel held the phone in her hand, finger at the call button, but chickened at the last second. No. Nothing good would come out of that. She had nothing to say.  
  
Bonnibel resumed cleaning the kitchen instead. She was almost done, she had been at it the whole day. She had tidied and washed everything extra carefully, feeling almost like she was making amends. Maybe it was because she was a bit hung over, she always had a drinker's remorse the next morning. Lady had asked her repeatedly if she was okay, until she'd snapped at her to leave her alone.  
  
Bonnibel preferred to be alone when she was sad. Alcohol always messed up the chemical balance of her brain.  
  
Finally there was nothing more left to do. She looked at the clock and thought: I'm glad this day is over and done with. She went straight to bed.  
  
  
  
_It was a hot summer afternoon. Bonnibel could smell the mud of the riverbank and hear the birds chirping above her, feeling the sun on her shoulders. She was waiting for something._  
  
_And suddenly Marceline was there, towering over her. Bonnibel couldn't see her face because it was in the shadow. Bonnibel tilted her head upward like a flower turning towards the sun. Marceline's mouth dropped on hers, hard and demanding._  
  
_Bonnibel was in awe. Finally she could do whatever she wanted, and she wanted everything. She took her shirt off, and heard Marceline gasp. Bonnibel leaned to touch Marceline again, running her hands over her stomach and waist under her t-shirt. Marceline took it off, and serendipitously she was wearing no bra._  
  
_Bonnibel kissed her breasts, feeling her nipples turn hard in her mouth. Marceline grabbed her chin, pulling her head back up for a panting, open mouthed kiss. Marceline's thigh was in between Bonnibel's legs and Bonnibel was mindlessly rubbing her crotch against it. Marceline cupped Bonnibel's breasts in her hands –_  
  
And then Bonnibel woke up. She held on to her dream a moment, longing to feel wanted, longing to touch. She was so turned on she could feel the pulse in between her legs. She squeezed her things together, sighing deeply.  
  
She should… Bonnibel sneaked her hand under her t-shirt, teasing a nipple that hardened immediately. She thought of her dream, of how it would feel like touching Marceline's breasts like she was touching her own right now. How Marceline would moan. She could hear her voice in her head, how it'd go breathless and out of control.  
  
Bonnibel touched herself first through her panties. She stroked with her index and middle fingers, pressing hard. Then she pushed the panties down, and explored further. She was already wet from her dream, her labia swollen and opening up for her touch. She let out a deep breath, trying to keep quiet.  
  
Bonnibel shivered with pleasure. She spread the wetness, rubbing her clit with slick fingers. She kept the other hand on her breast, circling the nipple but never quite touching. All her nerve endings were tingling and she could feel the orgasm nearing in no time. She thought about the last time she'd seen Marceline, how despite everything Marceline couldn't keep her hands off her.  
  
Bonnibel gasped as her orgasm hit her, legs jerking, biting her lower lip. She stroked herself gently through it, drawing as much aftershocks she could master before becoming too oversensitive.  
  
Bonnibel came down slowly, waiting for regret that never came. She used to dream about Marceline all the time, right after the camp. But she'd never consciously masturbated to the thought of her. Back then it had felt so wrong, after all the hurt and heartbreak Bonnibel had caused.  
  
And because she wasn't supposed to think about girls like that any more – which didn't work out so well. Even back then she'd known that there was nothing she could do about it.

Which reminded her that she had promised to visit her parents today. Bonnibel sighed and got up.  
  
She spent the morning reading online about newest inventions in biochemistry. Bonnibel wished she could study something that helped save lives, or even better, create new life. She didn't want to be a doctor: she would prefer to solve problems in lab, to examine biopsies in peace instead of dealing with messy, sick, demanding human beings. But working with DNA, that would really be something. Or growing internal organs from stem cells.  
  
Lady made food, and Bonnibel ate it without even seeing what it was, eyes never leaving the computer screen in front of her.  
  
And suddenly she was late. It was one hour drive to her parent's place, and she should be there in forty five minutes. Bonnibel wondered if she should change: she was wearing jeans and t-shirt. Sometimes her parents invited important guests. Bonnibel grabbed tights and a simple dress, deciding she'd put them on when she got there. Her hair was a mess, but there was no time to do anything about it.  
  
"I'm going to visit my parents! See you later!" she called, already one foot out of the door.  
  
"Bye!" she heard before slamming the door shut and running down the stairs. She was going to be so late.  
  
Bonnibel drove as fast as she dared. There was hardly any traffic, but Bonnibel didn't like speeding. Her parents' house was huge, a mansion that looked more like a castle. She could feel herself getting smaller and smaller as she drove nearer: in there she was never treated like an adult who makes their own choices. She parked the car. Her phone buzzed in her pocket: it was probably her mother, asking where she was.  
  
Bonnibel sneaked in from one of the servant's entrances. She was about to go to her old room when she saw Peppermint on the hallway.  
  
"Hi! Would you tell Mother I'm here," she asked.  
  
"Yes, of course, miss. It's nice to see you," he answered.  
  
"Yeah, nice to see you too," Bonnibel said, smiling. Meeting Peppermint was usually the best thing about being here.  
  
She run up the stairs to the second floor. Her old room was huge, with a private bathroom and separate dressing room. Everything was kept exactly like it had been when she was still living there. Being in the room felt like being in a mausoleum: all things in perfect order, even though no child had played with any of the seventy eight stuffed animals that occupied the bed, or the perfect Barbie collection on top of the shelf in years. It hadn't really been Bonnibel's room when she was a teenager either: she had only slept here, spending all her waking hours in the lab down on the basement.  
  
Bonnibel was just pulling the tights when she heard a knock on the door. "Can I come in?" her mother called.  
  
"Yeah," Bonnibel answered, tights still half mast.  
  
"I can't believe you're late again," she started scolding her before Bonnibel had a chance to even greet her. "You have a tear in your tights," she continued just as Bonnibel had pulled them all the way through.  
  
"Oh," she started, "I didn't –"  
  
Her mother interrupted her. "There are still some of your old clothes here, I'm sure –"  
  
"You know they won't fit me," Bonnibel said quickly before her mother would disappear to the dressing room.  
  
"They would if you'd just lose some weight," her mother snapped.  
  
_They never did_ , Bonnibel wanted to say. Her mother had insisted always buying size too small, as an encouragement to lose weight. Bonnibel had usually ended up asking money from her father and buying the same items in her size afterwards, in secret to not to offend her. Now the clothes in the closet were probably two or three sizes too small.  
  
"A woman in your position needs to think of her looks." Her mother looked down at Bonnibel with arms akimbo. Bonnibel was sitting on the bed, still wearing only tights and a bra. She had never been more aware of the absence of thigh gap and the soft rolls of her stomach. She started to fumble with the dress to escape her mother's eyes. Her mother tsked as she saw the garment. "Your dress needs ironing, it has wrinkles all over!"  
  
"Yes, Mother. I didn't have time to do that…" Bonnibel said. She wasn't even sure if the dress could be ironed, because it was made of some cheap synthetic fibre.  
  
"You just continue to show no respect towards your family or our guests," her mother said with a sigh. "And why does your hair look like that again? It is so… frizzy."  
  
"Well, my hair happens to be curly," Bonnibel pointed out.  
  
"I did buy you a straightener this Christmas, didn't I?" Her mother's platinum blonde hair was pulled back with a golden clip. It looked unreal, like it was made of fiberglass. Bonnibel knew it was practically starched with hairspray.  
  
She herself hadn't even taken the straightener out of its box. After Christmas she had put it in the back of her closet and forgotten she even owned it.  
  
"Yes, you did," she agreed.  
  
Her mother sighed deeply. "Well, it's too late now, isn't it."  
  
Bonnibel gave in to her mother when she insisted she'd wear the unnecessary expensive shoes with killer heels she had left here when she had moved out. She didn't like the way they looked and they hurt even when she was sitting down. Bonnibel staggered down to the dining room with her mother, deciding to kick the shoes off under the table as soon as no-one was looking.  
  
"Bonnibel, there is someone here to see you," her father greeted her. His voice was neutral, but Bonnibel could hear the accusation behind the words.  
  
"Bonnibel, this is Braco, Braco, meet my daughter Bonnibel." Braco looked roughly Bonnibel's age: he had brown hair and round, brown eyes that made him look like a puppy. He had something overly eager about him: Bonnibel could see he was trying very hard to please everyone.  
  
"Hello," he said as they shook hands, "we've met before, do you remember?"  
  
Bonnibel tilted her head. "I'm sorry, I don't…"  
  
"It's okay. You were twelve, I was fourteen, it was a barbecue at our house," Braco blabbered, his eyes never leaving Bonnibel's face.  
  
"Yeah, I remember now," Bonnibel lied. Her father was giving her meaningful looks behind behind Braco's back. Bonnibel tried to think. Her mother had mentioned the boy over the phone. And there was something else too…  
  
"And please accept my condolences," she continued after a brief consideration. "On the passing of your… father."  
  
Braco nodded gravely. Bonnibel was relieved she had gotten it right.  
  
"Shall we?" Braco said, offering his hand. Bonnibel allowed him to escort her to the table.  
  
Bonnibel's mother turned her full attention to Braco as soon as they had sat down. "So, I've heard you manage your businesses quite well on your own. It's quite impressive, really. I heard the stocks have soared…"  
  
Braco blushed. "Well… I've had help and…"  
  
"In any case. Bonnibel here studies business also, and she's taking over our company when Bill retires," Bonnibel's mother continued.  
  
"Oh, really?" Braco said, turning his gaze towards Bonnibel.  
  
"Yes, but let's hope it won't happen in years," Bonnibel said. Her mother pursed her lips in disapproval. Bonnibel hastily added: "I mean this company is your life, Father. I can't even dream about filling your shoes." Bonnibel tried to flash her sweetest smile towards her father, but she felt it turning sour on her face. Braco didn't seem to notice though: he appeared to be unable to tear his gaze from Bonnibel.  
  
The starters arrived. Bonnibel let the others do the conversing: she had nothing to say about the effects of exchange rate for dollar and and she definitely did not want to give Braco any more reason to pay attention to her. The guy was starting to creep her out.  
  
"What are you eating?" he asked her as the main course was served.  
  
"Uh… these are seitan sausages I think. Not the most nutritional choice but quite tasteful. I am a vegetarian so I don't eat steak."  
  
"Miss!" Braco called, getting the waitress' attention, "could I get what she's having?"  
  
"Of course, sir," she said, grabbing his plate and marching with it towards the kitchen. Bonnibel wondered if she was annoyed about the extra work or exited about the prospect of eating the portion herself. Bonnibel's parents didn't seem to be able to decide weather to be offended by Braco's actions or happy with his attempt to please Bonnibel.  
  
Braco ate the seitan with a carefully composed expression. Bonnibel repressed the urge to tease him, opting instead to regally ignore his struggles. It was not her fault he was eating something he didn't like.  
  
"This is not so bad," he exclaimed as it became clear that Bonnibel wasn't going to say anything. She just nodded. Bonnibel's mother cleared her throat.  
  
"I'm glad you think so," Bonnibel said through her teeth.  
  
"I mean it's not like I'll become a vegetarian or anything, unless of course…" _you want me to_ hung unsaid in the air.  
  
"No one's forcing you to quit eating meat," Bonnibel said.  
  
A silence followed her words. "So, Braco, I heard you live on your own in that grand mansion. I bet it gets lonely sometimes…" Bonnibel's mother continued. Bonnibel tuned out again, sipping her wine. She was sure it was very expensive, but quite frankly it tasted exactly the same as the cheap brand she and Lady bought whenever they wanted to celebrate something. After all the chemical structure of wine depended on the grape variety, the quality of the fruits and the details of the process, and after a certain point adding more money didn't make any significant difference to the outcome. Besides it was not like buying a more expensive bottle meant more attention was payed to these points, it was simply a way to express one's status in society. Bonnibel wondered again why so many people pretended to taste the difference when there obviously was none.  
  
After the dessert, a strawberry cheesecake which was so good it almost made the visit worthwhile, her father retired to the library to drink cognac and most likely to force Braco to smoke a cigar. Bonnibel almost felt sorry for him.  
  
"Why are you so rude to him?" her mother snapped as soon as they were out of earshot.  
  
"What do you mean?" Bonnibel asked, deciding to pretend innocence once again.  
  
"You know what I mean. He clearly likes you, for now," her mother said as if it was obvious that he wouldn't like her once he got to know her better, "and he's a great catch so I suggest you put in a little more effort, Bonnibel. It’s a miracle a boy like him actually chose you off all the girls he could get."  
  
Bonnibel was on the verge of tears. She knew she was unlovable, but to hear her mother say it out loud still hurt.  
  
"Yes, Mother," she said.  
  
"And put your shoes back on," her mother huffed.  
  
So during the coffee and sweets, since there was no occasion at her parent's house where their company's candy wouldn't be served, Bonnibel plastered a smile on her face and pretended to be interested in everything Braco said. He was clearly encouraged by the sudden change of mood, and started to try and flirt with her. He told her how adorable he found her interest in chemistry, since nerdy girls were so cute, and a sudden realization hit Bonnibel. She would rather kill herself than marry this man. There was nothing about him that interested her, and she couldn't imagine herself ever being attracted to him.  
  
Three days ago she might have ignored the lack of feeling but now she suddenly could not. This man would belittle her their whole lives while thinking that he was flattering her, and he would treat everything she considered important as an adorable quirk. And she could have looked past that if she didn't know what it was like to be so attracted to someone it hurt. What it was like when someone actually tried to treat you well, even when you didn't deserve it.  
  
"Earth to Bonnibel!" Braco exclaimed. "What are you thinking?"  
  
_That I should call Marcy_. "N-nothing. At all. So you were saying?"  
  
Bonnibel carried on with the conversation, feeling her mask of politeness slowly dropping. She just didn't find it in her to care about the looks her parents were giving to her or the growing confusion on Braco's face when she explained in detail how the candy bar he was holding was made, and how she had learned different ways to emulsify chocolate during her summer holiday when she had been nine years old. "So anyway, do you have any adorable little hobbies you'd like to tell me about?" she asked when Braco's eyes had glazed over. She could hear her mother drawing an offended breath.  
  
"I uh… collect Lego figures," Braco said slowly.  
  
"Cute! Tell me more!" Bonnibel shrieked.  
  
"Well, I my grandfather always brought me Legos when he was traveling so even though I never really liked building them, the little Lego guys kind of remind me of him so I keep them on my shelf as a way to remember him. So after he died I continued to collect the different figurines because…" _You had all the possible Legos and you didn't even like to build anything with them? And all I got was some boring Barbies_ , Bonnibel thought, suppressing a giggle. _I'm sorry but we can't be friends_.  
  
"That's sweet," she said instead, cutting off his sentence.  
  
Soon after Braco declared that he should really be heading home. Bonnibel's mother urged her to see him out, no doubt planning a romantic scene in her head, but Bonnibel declined. "I really need to go home too and I have something in my room I need to get first. So goodbye, Braco, it was nice meeting you!" she said before disappearing to her room as fast as she could with her heels. She immediately regretted her rudeness, but she consoled herself with a thought that it would have been so much worse to lead him on. If Braco was as intelligent as his company's success suggested he would figure out that Bonnibel wasn't interested.  
  
First she changed back to her ordinary clothes and then she shuffled through her dressing room. _It was here somewhere… oh there it is!_ Bonnibel closed her hand around the neck of her first guitar, the one she had gotten when she first started playing. It wasn't nearly as good as the instrument she had sold, but it was better than nothing.  
  
She heard her mother knocking and rushing inside without waiting for answer.  
  
"You were completely out of line, Bonnibel!" she shouted.  
  
Bonnibel stared at her. She was so tired. "I know, Mother. I really need to go now, so would you please excuse me," she said with faked calmness.  
  
"I am not done with you, young lady!"  
  
"Well this has to wait. I'm going home now," Bonnibel said, marching pass her.  
  
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused to your father and I?" she said to Bonnibel's back.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, "I really am." She couldn’t confront her mother, no matter how much she wanted to.  
  
"Well sorry is not good enough! I gave Braco your cell phone number so I expect you to apologize properly when he calls!"  
  
Bonnibel turned on her heels. "You did what!" she yelped. Her mother drew a breath. "Never mind," Bonnibel said. "I'll apologize, or whatever, but now I really need to go. Homework. And stuff. Goodbye, Mother," she said as she stepped outside.  
  
Bonnibel drove home feeling even worse than yesterday. The weekend had been so awful she was almost glad to go back to her classes on Monday.  
  
Lady was out when she returned. Bonnibel tuned her guitar and strummed it absently. She settled on playing the Sound of Silence, and while it wasn't like riding a bike, it also wasn't as hard as she had feared. Bonnibel sang the lyrics with a sad little smile on her face.  
  
Afterwards Bonnibel toyed with her phone. It was almost nine PM so if she was going to reach Marceline she should do it now before it was too late. She took a deep breath and pressed call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, a cliffhanger. Bet you didn't see that one coming.
> 
> The next chapter's gonna be a flashback again, and hopefully the plot thickens. I'll do my best.
> 
> Thanks for kudos and comments, you are the best! And extra thanks for patience :)
> 
> Chapter title comes from Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel. This fic is basically a musical tbh. More like Once than Sound of Music but anyway.


	6. My common sense is out the door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it took me seven months to update this fic! I'm so, so sorry. And I also can't believe that I'm actually still updating after so much time has passed, so seriously thank you to everyone who has left a comment! If it weren't for you I wouldn't have probably kept on writing this.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are the usual conversion therapy stuff and also underage drinking.

**2006**

  
Hiking was evil.  
  
Every part of Bonnibel’s body hurt. Her her new hiking boots had probably dug into her flesh so deep they’d soon start to rub the bone and she was certain she no longer had pinky toes. The worst was her back and shoulders: it was like the backpack, which hadn’t felt that heavy in the morning, had gradually gained weight. Her muscles felt tired too, but that was more manageable than the rest.  
  
She stared at Marceline’s backpack bouncing in front of her. She could have sworn that the other girl had a skip in her step, even though her backpack was twice as big as Bonnibel’s. She hadn’t emptied it, so she was probably carrying a month’s worth of clothes and other things with her. Marceline had said she hated when other people touched her stuff, and they both knew that the camp staff would probably go through their things while they were gone.  
  
From time to time Marceline turned to glance at Bonnibel. She slowed down if she noticed her lagging behind. Bonnibel tried to keep her expression neutral whenever the girl was looking: she hated being weak like this. No-one else seemed to have this much difficulties, so what was wrong with her? She was probably just fat and lazy like her mother always said.  
  
Bonnibel stared at her feet that were somehow still moving. The world narrowed to the rhythm of her steps and the sound of her own breathing in her ears. She could go on only as long as she didn’t stop–  
  
”Auh,” Bonnibel said as she bumped into Marceline’s backpack.  
  
”Sorry,” Marceline said, turning to her. ”I think I need a break.”  
  
Bonnibel frowned. She didn’t like to be pitied. ”I’m not tired,” she lied.  
  
Marceline sighed. ”I didn’t say you were. I just want to take a break. Let me take your backpack off.”  
  
Bonnibel gave in. She opened the belt buckle and allowed Marceline lift her burden, her shoulders sagging in relief. Then suddenly she was sitting on a tree trunk with a water bottle on her hand, Marceline’s concerned face right in front of her. The girl was crouching on the ground, and Bonnibel was looking down at her.  
  
”Drink some water, Bonnie,” Marceline said. ”You’re nearly passing out just now.”  
  
Bonnibel did as she was told. She tried to gulp so much water at once it spilled all over her chin and shirt, but she didn’t find it in her to care. ”I’m okay,” she said one more time, maybe to convince herself.  
  
Marceline sighed again. ”Why are you so goddamn stubborn?”  
  
Bonnibel let out a frustrated noise, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.  
  
Sitting down, Bonnibel’s breathing started to even out. Bit by bit she became aware of her surroundings. Sun was filtering through the lush green roof of the forest, forming small golden spots on the moss-covered ground. The air was cool and moist, smelling heavily of rotting leaves and dirt. Bonnibel breathed more deeply. Marceline sat down next to her, their thighs touching, making Bonnibel’s head spin even more. She closed her eyes and leaned onto Marceline’s shoulder.  
  
Too soon Marceline nudged her. ”Hey Princess, we gotta keep going before they come looking for us.”  
  
”Yeah.” Bonnibel’s muscles felt like cement. She had to force herself to stand up.  
  
”I think your backpack is adjusted wrong,” Marceline said.  
  
”What do you mean?” Bonnibel asked. She had no idea how backpacks worked and she cursed herself for not teaching herself beforehand.  
  
Marceline lifted the backpack, like a butler assisting someone with their coat, and Bonnibel put her hands through the shoulder straps. Her back was protesting the weight as soon as Marceline let go.  
  
”The belt hangs too low. Let’s see if I can…” Marceline pulled the backpack off Bonnibel’s back again and fumbled with the buckles for awhile. Soon she had removed the shoulder straps completely, and Bonnibel could only hope she knew how to put them back again. After more fumbling and some cursing Marceline lifted it again. ”Try it on now.”  
  
It was exactly as heavy as before. Marceline buckled Bonnibel’s belt, tightening it a bit more than was comfortable. ”That’s more like it,” she said, satisfied. Bonnibel felt absolutely no difference.  
  
Then Marceline stepped closer, grabbing her shoulder straps. Bonnibel gasped: it felt like the backpack was filled with helium when Marceline loosened them. The backpack wasn’t resting on any of the aching spots on her shoulders and back anymore.  
  
”What did you do?” she breathed into the narrow space between their faces. ”It feels so light.”  
  
”It’s magic,” Marceline answered with a cheeky grin. Bonnibel was almost ready to believe her.  
  
Marceline fastened a strap that went across Bonnibel’s chest. She let her hands linger longer than was necessary, and Bonnibel could feel her cheeks warming. She tried to stammer a thank you, but her words were swallowed by Marceline’s mouth.  
  
They hadn’t kissed since that night more than a week ago. There was always someone around, and Bonnibel couldn’t risk her parents finding out she had… whatever this was going on with another girl. She didn’t know what they’d do exactly, but the fact that a mere suspicion had been enough to land her here spoke volumes.  
  
Marceline had made her frustration known: she was constantly playing footsie under the dinner table and pulling Bonnibel by the hand behind corners and into the woods and all but flirting with her even in the middle of the group therapy sessions. Still, Bonnibel had turned her down every time. She couldn’t shake off the feeling of Miss Gary’s eyes on her even when she was certain they were alone. As flattered she was about the attention and as much as she craved Marceline’s touch, she hadn’t been able to go through with it. Until now.  
  
Bonnibel kissed back slowly, her lips still wet from the water she had been drinking. Marceline’s lips were salty from the sweat and her cheeks were radiating heat. Bonnibel coaxed her mouth open with her tongue. Marceline’s fingers opened around the strap, hesitantly cupping Bonnibel’s breasts. Bonnibel played with the hem of Marceline’s tank top, not quite sure if she dared to touch the skin underneath.  
  
Marceline’s tongue met hers, stroking it lightly at first. And then suddenly Marceline sucked her tongue, glueing their lips together and all Bonnibel could do was to hold on and try to breath through her nose. She pushed her hands on Marceline’s bare stomach, feeling her abdominal muscles tremble with restrained energy. Answering shiver run down Bonnibel’s spine, she was getting goosebumps all over her skin. Her breasts felt oversensitive in Marceline’s hands, she was aware of every seam of her bra and how Marceline could definitely feel the hardening of her nipples even through the fabric and how much she wanted to get even closer, to feel more skin against skin, to push herself against Marceline’s slender figure and satisfy the desire she had been barely suppressing for what felt like ever since the first day. Bonnibel grabbed Marceline’s waist and pushed their bodies together until Marceline’s hands were trapped between them, Bonnibel’s breasts and stomach squashed flat against Marceline’s solid frame and she was still devouring Bonnibel’s mouth, still making small rubbing motions with her palms, which probably made Bonnibel keen, she didn’t recognize her own voice anymore. Their position was slightly unstable with their heavy backpacks, they were constantly almost toppling over and Bonnibel tried to steady their swaying by holding Marceline’s waist even tighter but she couldn’t breath, her brain was all to of oxygen and she didn’t know if she was still standing or if they had already fallen.  
  
Marceline broke the kiss first, taking a step back and reluctantly extracting Bonnibel’s hands from her waist. Bonnibel’s body was vibrating with unresolved tension, she felt her pulse hammering everywhere, in her aching feet and trembling hands and the warmth between her legs. She looked at Marceline. The girl had thick eyebrows and dark brown eyes shadowed by long lashes. Her nose was curved, and Bonnibel couldn’t help but think that it looked kind of regal, like roman statues. Marceline looked back at Bonnibel, the look in her eyes mirroring Bonnibel’s own intensity. She wiped their combined spit off her mouth with the back of her hand. Bonnibel watched, fascinated, as her nostrils flared with each shallow breath. Bonnibel didn’t often look directly at Marceline, because she felt like her expression would reveal too much to others, and now she couldn’t seem to get enough of looking.  
  
Too soon Marceline lowered her gaze, her bangs falling to cover her eyes. ”We should go,” she said.  
  
Bonnibel sighed. ”Yeah. Do you know how to get to the campsite?” Marceline had been keeping the map, but she wasn’t holding it anymore.  
  
”Yeah.” Marceline turned towards the path. ”I memorized the route. Come on, Princess,” she said, flashing a grin over her shoulder.  
  
Bonnibel’s stomach did the familiar flip at the sight. ”Okay,” she breathed, smiling back.  
  
  
  
They got to the campsite after an hour’s trek. Marceline lied she had lost the map and they hadn’t been sure where to go. Mr. Baxter didn’t seem to believe her, but the map was nevertheless nowhere to be found. Bonnibel wondered if Marceline had actually left it somewhere along the way for a good measure.  
  
”If we were allowed to carry our phones we could have called,” Marceline retorted. Bonnibel felt sudden dread: what if they had actually gotten lost without a map and their cellphones? This camp was getting more dangerous every day.  
  
Bonnibel had been carrying the tent and Marceline had most of their food, so Susan and Mary had hadn’t been able to do much. There was a fire burning and a kettle filled with boiling water, just waiting for the noodles.  
  
The task of pitching the tent fell to Bonnibel, because others insisted she must be good at that sort of thing. With Mary’s help it wasn’t very difficult, and by the time they were done Marceline and Susan had already finished making the dinner. Bonnibel was happy with her noodles in tomato sauce: others had alarmingly pink canned meat with it as well.  
  
”Are your feet hurting?” Marceline asked her.  
  
”Not so badly anymore,” Bonnibel replied. She was afraid of taking her shoes off and seeing the damage, but as long as she sat still she could forget about the blisters.  
  
”You should change your shoes,” Marceline said. ”I have crocs with me, you can borrow them.”  
  
”Of course you have crocs, what don’t you have,” Bonnibel muttered.  
  
She went to wash her feet in a brook nearby. She sat down on a rock and lowered her feet into the water, hissing with satisfaction. The cold numbed her feet almost instantly.  
  
”Oh my god! Why didn’t you say anything?” Marceline exclaimed, sounding rather angry, when she saw Bonnibel’s feet. She had brought her whole backpack with her and started to frantically search for something. ”How did you even walk all the way here?”  
  
Bonnibel shrugged. What else she could have done? Stay in the forest?  
  
Her feet looked rather bad, that much was true. All her toes had blisters, pinky toes looking particularly damaged. Blisters in her ankles had bursted already, and there were blood stains in her socks.  
  
”You’re an idiot,” Marceline said, shaking her head. ”Stubborn idiot.”  
  
”Shut up,” Bonnibel replied elegantly.  
  
”I’m gonna disinfect your blisters and put band-aids on them,” Marceline declared and grabbed Bonnibel’s foot without waiting for a reply. ”Have you never used those shoes before or something?” She toweled Bonnibel’s foot dry. Even the gentle rubbing was painful, and Bonnibel gritted her teeth.  
  
She shook her head. ”My mother insisted on buying them, I had no hiking boots and the letter said everyone needs to have them.”  
  
Marceline tsked.  
  
”I knew I shouldn’t have used new boots, I just didn’t realize how serious this was. I mean, I can take a little pain…” Bonnibel continued.  
  
Marceline looked up from her first aid kit. ”You know that shoes aren’t supposed to hurt, right?” She started dapping Bonnibel’s ankle with a cotton ball that was soaked in disinfectant. Bonnibel hissed: it stung quite a bit.  
  
”Yeah, yeah,” she replied with a strained voice, even though all her shoes usually chafed at first. It was just life.  
  
Marceline finished cleaning and bandaging her feet in silence. Even though it was so painful that Bonnibel had tears in her eyes, she couldn’t help but enjoy the touch: despite her harsh words Marceline’s hands were gentle and attentive.  
  
”I’m borrowing you some socks too,” she said.  
  
Marceline’s feet were a bit larger than hers, and her black socks felt soft against her skin. The read crocs were a lot better than Bonnibel’s boots, even though walking still hurt a bit.  
  
The rest of the day was spent sitting at a campfire and talking about their childhood memories, again. Bonnibel was so tired she was drifting off most of the time, but Mr. Baxter was a lot nicer about it than Miss Gary would have been. He didn’t even say anything when Bonnibel accidentally leaned on Marceline’s shoulder, dozing off.  
  
Marceline made her take a painkiller in the evening, even though Bonnibel insisted she wasn’t hurting. It was an obvious lie: here movements were stiffer than a robot’s in a b-class science fiction movie. They fell asleep back to back, because sleeping in any other position would have been too suspicious.  
  
Despite how they fell asleep, in the morning Bonnibel woke up with Marceline’s arms wrapped around her. She lay still for awhile, wishing more than anything that she could snuggle closer and kiss Marceline when she woke up, with morning breath and all. That was of course unthinkable, with Mary and Susan sleeping right next to them and the rest of the camp right behind the thin canvas wall. Bonnibel had butterflies in her stomach, she was both exited to be so close to Marceline and afraid of getting caught. She stared at Marceline’s sleeping face. The girl was looking uncharacteristically serene, usually she tossed and turned in her sleep, which was probably how they had ended up like this in the first place. A sad little thought floated around Bonnibel’s head: _is this the first time I’m waking up in her arms, or the last?_  
  
Bonnibel had tried not to think about what would happen when she’d return home. It was useless to worry about things she couldn’t do anything about, or that’s what she tried to tell herself.  
  
Bonnibel’s muscles were still tense and achey, and she got up slowly and carefully like a much older woman. Marceline woke up to her shuffling, and flashed her a sleepy smile.  
  
”Did you have a nice dream?” Bonnibel whispered, teasing.  
  
Marceline’s grin widened. ”The best,” she answered. She got up and leaned towards Bonnibel before remembering where they were, and pulled back, sighing. Bonnibel could feel her own smile fading as well.  
  
The slight melancholy didn’t leave Bonnibel for the rest of the hiking trip. The sky was covered in heavy, iron gray clouds, but it didn’t start raining. Bonnibel hiked back in Marceline’s crocs, most of her stuff carried by the said girl, Susan, Mary, LSP, Dan and Manfried despite her loud protests. She didn’t like pity, but maybe this wasn’t them feeling sorry for her at all, maybe this was how it was like to have friends.  
  
If that was the case, Bonnibel wished she had more of those.  
  
They had the rest of the day off, and the first thing they did was take turns in showering. There were two stalls in girls’ side, and Mary and Susan went first, leaving Bonnibel alone with Marceline in the cabin.  
  
Bonnibel bited her lip. ”Marcy?” she started with an uncertain voice.  
  
”Yeah?” Marceline replied, busy searching for a clean set of clothes from the depths of her backpack.  
  
”Do you want to have my number? So we can, you know, keep in touch…” Bonnibel was suddenly feeling shy. Maybe Marceline only hung out with her, because she couldn’t see all her cool friends while she was trapped here and Bonnibel was a good enough substitute. Maybe she would forget all about Bonnibel as soon as she was free.  
  
Marceline paused, looking up with a smile slowly reaching her eyes. ”Yeah, of course! I mean if you want to…”  
  
Bonnibel scribbled her number on an empty page of her Marie Curie’s biography and ripped it off, offering it to Marceline. ”There you go,” she said, not meeting her eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest.  
  
”You want my number too?” Marceline asked, hesitantly.  
  
Bonnibel nodded.  
  
”I’ll make sure you don’t lose it!” Marceline grabbed her guitar from where it was standing next to the wall and took out her pocket knife. Bonnibel’s eyes widened.  
  
”Can I…?” Marceline gestured at the back of her guitar. Bonnibel surprised herself by nodding: she would certainly not lose Marceline’s number if it was scratched there, and no-one needed to know to whom it belongs. It was kind of romantic, having girl scribbling her number on the back of her guitar.  
  
Marceline worked silently for awhile, finishing with a lopsided heart next to the number. ”There you go,” she leered, mirroring Bonnibel.  
  
”Thanks,” Bonnibel said, biting her lip in an attempt to conceal her exited grin. This meant they’d meet each other again, and even though Bonnibel tried hard to not to get her hopes up, the mere thought of not losing Marceline completely made her whole body overflow with happiness.  
  
Mary and Susan returned soon after, and Marceline and Bonnibel went to take their showers. Bonnibel tried wash herself as fast as she could in the cold water. She shrieked a bit every time she stepped under the spring, making Marceline laugh behind the wall. ”You’re such a princess!” she called. ”This isn’t even cold!”  
  
”You’re a freak of nature!” Bonnibel called back.  
  
On their walk to the dinner Marceline took a breath like she was about to speak, and then let it go. It happened several times before Bonnibel finally turned to look at her. ”What is it?” she asked.  
  
Marceline snorted a bit to herself before speaking. ”This is probably like, a really stupid idea but…” she paused for a second. ”Have you ever been drunk?” she asked under her breath.  
  
”What? No!” Bonnibel exclaimed. ”And you’re right, that sounds like the worst idea ever,” she continued in a low voice.  
  
”Yeah, sorry,” Marceline said, not sounding sorry at all.  
  
They fell silent for awhile. ”And where’d you get alcohol anyway?” she whispered, suddenly very curious.  
  
After the dinner Bonnibel found out that Marceline had hidden a few cans of beer and some vodka in a plastic bag doused in the river and secured to a place with a rope tied to a tree. ”This way they’ll stay nice and cold,” she explained.  
  
Bonnibel wasn’t still exactly sure how she had agreed to this, but before she knew it she was sitting on the sleeping mat that Marceline had spread for them with a can of beer in her hand. She took an experimental swig, nearly spitting the stuff out as soon as she tasted it.  
  
Marceline snorted. ”You’ll get used to it,” she said.  
  
Bonnibel sipped some more, grimacing. ”I don’t think so,” she said, ”this is nasty.”  
  
Now that Bonnibel had decided to try alcohol, she wasn’t going to give up that easily. If she couldn’t drink the beer, maybe she could… ”What about that vodka, what does that taste like?” she asked, even though she pretty much knew the answer already.  
  
Marceline laughed louder. ”Bonnie, if you can’t take the beer, you certainly can’t take the vodka either, trust me.” She took out a half full bottle of some kind of red soda. ”I can mix it with this, though,” she continued, like she had been expecting that Bonnibel wouldn’t like the beer.  
  
Bonnibel nodded, putting her can down. Marceline poured some vodka into the bottle, and Bonnibel had no idea if it was a small or a large amount.  
  
”Okay, try this,” Marceline said.  
  
Bonnibel sipped the drink. It wasn’t delicious by any means, but it was way better than the beer. The smell of alcohol reminded her of her lab back home, which was strange but not unpleasant. ”Not bad,” she said, taking a larger sip.  
  
Marceline grinned, gulping her beer. ”I feel kind of bad, corrupting a nice girl like you.”  
  
Bonnibel snorted. ”Yeah, you’re a such bad influence,” she said. ”What’d my parents say if they saw me now?”  
  
Somehow, with the vodka already warming her cheeks and Marceline’s arm wrapped around her, she could laugh at the thought of her mother’s judgmental frown. ”I bet this is not how they imagined I’d spend this camp,” she continued, giggling.  
  
Marceline laughed too. ”Yeah, like you’ll come back home as a big bad dyke… I could shave your head too if you want?” she suggested.  
  
”Yeah, and I could take some of your flannel shirts with me…”  
  
”I’m pretty sure I know how to make prison tattoos!”  
  
They continued talking lightly about subjects that were too heavy for a serious conversation. Bonnibel tried to keep up with Marceline who drank beer like it was water, and soon enough she started to feel even more light-headed than being this close to Marceline had already made her feel. The sky was still covered in clouds, and it was getting darker already, even though the sun wouldn’t set for for awhile still. The wind was chilly, and Bonnibel leaned closer to Marceline. She took another sip of the vodka-soda, surprised to find out the bottle was almost empty.  
  
”We should go inside, it’s getting cold,” Bonnibel said. Marceline hugged her tighter, burying her face in Bonnibel’s hair.  
  
”Yeah, let’s check out what LSP is up to,” she suggested, with no indication of actually getting up and doing that.  
  
Bonnibel hummed, nose filled with Marceline’s scent, a faint smell of cigarettes and cheap shampoo. The closeness felt different somehow, less frightening than usual. Bonnibel’s limbs were heavy and her mind was carefree in a way she hadn’t felt for once in this camp. She lifted her face and kissed Marceline, because who knew when she’d get another chance.  
  
”You taste like beer,” she teased.  
  
”Gee, I wonder why,” Marceline deadpanned. ”You taste like candy,” she continued and Bonnibel could hear the smile in her voice. Bonnibel wasn’t sure which one of them had moved, but their mouths met again.  
  
The kiss felt almost lazy, their lips moved slowly against each other. Bonnibel sighed happily, melting against Marceline. She felt completely loose, like her brain wasn’t connected to her limbs, like leaning on to Marceline was the only thing keeping her  upright.  
  
The first drop of rain on her face startled her back to action. ”Okay, we need to leave,” she said. ”It’s starting to rain for real.”  
  
They finished their drinks and stood up. Bonnibel laughed at what if felt like to move: it was like all her gestures were larger than she expected, making her sway whenever she tried to take a step. Everything looked a bit blurred too, but luckily the horizon was’t moving. She felt like it could start to, any minute, like she was at the edge of being too drunk for it to feel good but not quite there.  
  
”You’re so cute,” Marceline exclaimed happily. ”How can you be so adorable all the damn time?”  
  
Bonnibel giggled. ”I walk like a newborn fawn, look,” she said, taking a few steps. ”I’m a bambi!”  
  
Marceline shook her head. ”I can’t believe you,” she said, smiling. She tucked the sleeping mat under her arm and took Bonnibel’s hand. ”Don’t fall over, you drunkard.”  
  
”It takes under twenty minutes for a baby deer to learn how to walk,” Bonnibel said thoughtfully.  
  
”Yeah, yeah,” Marceline answered. She didn’t let go of Bonnibel’s hand until they were nearly at LSP’s cabin and Bonnibel couldn’t find it in her to care who saw it. She could hear the music coming from the inside. ”They’re having a party!” she squealed, louder than she had intended.  
  
Marceline knocked and the music stopped immediately. Dan opened the door, peeking out cautiously. ”Oh, it’s just you two,” he said, relieved, before calling over his shoulder: ”It’s just Marcy and Bonnie, you can put it back on, LSP!”  
  
Bonnie recognized the song, it had been playing on the radio nearly non-stop for the past year at least. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but she liked the apathy in the singers voice, and the melody was catchy, if a bit melancholic. She and Marceline sat down on a bed next to Manfried. The room was dimly lit, only one table lamp was on. Surprisingly enough, Mary was there too, sitting next to LSP, who was poking at an MP3-player that was attached to a single speaker.  
  
”Gorillaz is so depressing, you mind if I put something else on, Manfried?” she asked, even though Bonnibel could tell that her finger was already on the play button.  
  
”Whatever,” the boy replied, resigned.  
  
”Okay, listen guys, this is my jam!”  
  
Bonnibel knew this song too. She giggled. ”You’re right, this is so about you,” she shouted to LSP. The song was the one where the chorus was basically just ”my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps,” and it was exactly the kind of silly music she could imagine LSP liking.  
  
”Dance with me, Mary,” LSP took both of Mary’s hands, and pulled her up. It was rather hilarious, with Mary moving stiffly back and forth and LSP shaking her ass with absolutely no shame.  
  
”C’mon, you guys gotta dance too!” she addressed the rest of the room. Marceline shrugged and got up, pulling Bonnibel with her.  
  
Bonnibel was still feeling rather unstable, but she was quite sure she managed to make movements that somehow resembled dancing. She bumped into Marceline all the time, both accidentally and on purpose, until Marceline just unceremoniously grabbed her waist. Whatever, they were just dancing together, it was not like that was forbidden. Or it probably was, but Bonnibel tried her hardest not to care.  
  
The song changed (”no fighting, Shakira, Shakira!”), and Bonnibel tried to distance herself form Marceline a bit, paying more attention to her dancing. She liked the way Marceline looked at her, and she liked the way Marceline’s body responded to her movements. It was still clumsy, but they were definitely more in sync now. Even Manfried had gotten up, looking a bit out of place with LSP taking his hands and trying to make at least his arms move with the beat.  
  
The next song seemed to speak directly of Bonnibel’s feelings, or at least that’s what it felt like in her buzzed state. She was lost too, she was losing her mind over Marceline, and there was no helping it. Her common sense was out the door. She leaned closer again, forgetting that they weren’t supposed to do that, and glanced up to Marceline’s face.  
  
Then suddenly a loud BANG startled them all, and Marceline jumped away from her. Bonnibel blinked, confused: someone had turned the ceiling light on.  
  
”What on earth is going on here?” Miss Gary shrieked over the music, which LSP promptly turned off.  
  
”Nothing, we were just listening to some music,” Dan tried to explain.  
  
Miss Gary huffed, appearing to be too angry to even speak. ”You… you… you were here, with no lights on, listening to this sinful music, _grinding_ and doing _who knows what else_ in the darkness… and you!” she said, pointing to Marceline. ”You must've started this!”  
  
”Why me?” Marceline asked, trying to sound innocent, but Bonnibel had finally had enough.  
  
”Why do you always take your anger out on Marceline?” she snapped. She could hear Marceline trying to say that it was no big deal, really, but she wasn’t about to stop. ”What's she done to offend you? Is it because she’s not a good christian girl like the rest of us? Well guess what, if she started it, then I started it too!” Bonnibel’s voice was getting louder and louder, and in the distant part of her brain she knew she was going to be in big trouble for this. ”You're the most unfair, the meanest _bitch_ in the world! You're so _fucking_ wrong about us…” she take a deep breath, stepping closer to Miss Gary. ”I HATE YOU! I HATE THIS PLACE!” she shouted to her face. ”FUCK YOU!” she added for a good measure.  
  
Miss Gary took an offended breath, and then her expression suddenly changed. She sniffed the air between them. ”Young lady, are you _intoxicated_?” she asked disbelievingly.  
  
”Oh shit,” Marceline said quietly behind her. Bonnibel had a sinking feeling in her stomach. If she wasn’t screwed before, she certainly was now.  
  
”You are, aren’t you.” It was not a question. Miss Gary stepped over to Marceline. ”And you too,” she said with conviction.  
  
”Well not drunk as in _drunk_ , you know, more like… we were just…” Marceline tried to explain, but she wasn’t making any sense, not even to Bonnibel. Manfried groaned, exchanging glances with Dan.  
  
”Enough.” Miss Gary glanced at each of them in turn. ”Is it just these two or…?”  
  
Everyone tried to reassure her in unison that none of them had even known that Marceline and Bonnibel had been drinking, never mind joining them.  
  
Miss Gary nodded resolutely. ”I’m going to call all of your parents regardless,” she said, making LSP look like she was going to vomit. ”I’m asking them to come here this weekend. This kind of behavior is unacceptable, completely unacceptable. I’m disappointed in all of you.”  
  
Bonnibel felt like crying. It was all her fault they were all in trouble, if she’d just kept her mouth shut they might have gotten away with all of this.  
  
Miss Gary walked them back to their cabin, making it impossible for them to say anything to each other. She supervised them while they washed their teeth and changed into their pajamas and even made sure that each of them climbed into their own beds.  
  
Bonnibel started sobbing to her pillow as soon as Miss Gary was finally gone. She tried to keep quiet, but the whole bed was rocking uncontrollably and she was unable to reassure herself that everything was going to be fine in the morning. It was only going to get worse from here, and she was so stupid she deserved everything her parents would do to her. She should have known better.  
  
”It was not your fault, Princess,” she heard Marceline whisper in the dark. ”Don’t cry.”  
  
Bonnibel sniffed.  
  
”Besides, you were right. You were so brave to say all that, even if it was kinda stupid,” Marceline continued.  
  
Bonnibel hiccuped, almost laughing despite herself. ”I said her she’s a bitch. To her face,” she whispered back in a wobbly voice.  
  
Mary surprised her for the second time that evening. ”But you were right. I hate this place too,” she whispered vehemently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter shit hits the fan for real, as you can probably imagine. And after that I get back to that phone call Bonnibel made, ugh... seven months ago...
> 
> I intended the camp to take place in summer 2006 from the very beginning. There is no other reason for me to specify the year except for the songs they're listening to: I had so much fun picking songs that had just came out before summer 2006, you have no idea. The chapter title comes from Rihanna's SOS, which is also that last song they're dancing to.
> 
> As always, I love comments, please tell me what you think! I also have a [tumblr](http://purukumiprinsessa.tumblr.com/), let's be friends :)


	7. Ain’t no rainbow in the sky in the middle of the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait, again... My life has been shitty lately with all sorts of boring and difficult adult stuff, but things are looking better again. So hopefully the next update will be a little faster... maybe...
> 
> This was such a hard chapter for me to write, I hope it turned out ok.
> 
> and THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the comments and kudos! Srsly you people make me feel so much better about myself and my writing and just... thank you, you're all amazing :)
> 
> Usual warnings for conversion therapy, also a brief suicide mention in the beginning so heads up.

Marceline had been through some pretty bad experiences in the sixteen years of her life, but this hangover Friday was at the top ten of nastiest mornings to wake up to. The sun was peaking unnecessary brightly from behind the trees, and Bonnibel’s bed next to hers was cold and neatly made. This was the first time she hadn’t walked to breakfast with Marceline, and while she knew it was the smart thing to do, she couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that shot through her aching head.  
  
She dragged herself through her morning rituals, frantically washing her teeth to get the taste of last night out of her mouth.  
  
Bonnibel didn’t even meet her eyes in the dining hall.  
  
Marceline needed to get her plan into action, and fast. She knew from the few brief conversations she had had with LSP that the girl couldn’t return to her parents without them butchering her personality into something that might resemble a son they could show off to the relatives. She also knew that LSP would probably kill herself before she’d let that happen.  
  
Marceline needed to get her out of here before her parents would come tomorrow. She had intended to run off from the very start: she’d rather live in streets than with the foster family she currently had, and besides she had friends she could stay with. She had stayed here this long only because of Bonnibel.  
  
It would be amazing if Bonnibel ran off with her. Marceline was used to taking care of herself: she had a band to play in and money to be made with gigs and working odd jobs with a fake ID. She was certain Bonnibel would be accepted in their band, she was so talented. Life would be hard, but for Marceline it had never not been that way. It would be so much better if they were in it together. Besides, Marceline was so ready to leave this place, and she was certain Bonnibel was too. If only she’d have guts to do it.  
  
"Dan, can I talk to you?" Marceline asked the boy as they were walking back to the cabins after breakfast. She hoped they were still in friendly terms, even though it was kind of Marceline's fault he was in trouble as well.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Dan replied casually. Marceline sighed in relief. She looked around.  
  
"Not here, though. Meet me at the riverbank behind the willows in five minutes and make sure no-one follows you."  
  
Dan nodded. "Okay."  
  
Marceline walked to the riverbank to wait for him. She tried to think of what to say, but couldn't really come up with anything.  
  
Dan appeared faster than she had expected. Marceline was desperately craving for a cigarette, but she had smoked the last one a few days ago.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, when it became clear that Marceline wasn't going to say anything.  
  
"First of all... I'm really sorry for getting you guys into trouble." Marceline was speaking too fast, her words getting caught up to each other.  
  
"It's okay. I mean it was really dumb of you, but I'd have done the same thing if I had any alcohol with me.You can't take this shit sober."  
  
Marceline snorted. "Well, I'm sorry for not inviting you then."  
  
Dan smirked. "I get it, believe me. But I'm still a bit surprised that Bonnie went along, I mean..."  
  
"She's such a nice girl, I know. I'm just that charming," Marceline finished the thought.  
  
"Maybe you are. Anyway," Dan continued, "what was it that you needed me for?"  
  
Marceline took a deep breath. ”I’m gonna run away, with LSP and maybe Bonnie. Do you wanna come with?”  
  
Dan shook his head. ”I have nowhere to run, besides I’m gonna be eighteen in a year and a half, and then I can move out.”  
  
”Yeah okay, I get it,” Marceline said, even though she really didn’t. She didn’t remember ever having a home to move out from. ”Can you still help us?”  
  
”Depends.”  
  
”It’s nothing you’d get in trouble for, I swear!” Marceline hurried to reassure him. ”I just really need to use a phone and I thought that if you’d ask Mr. Baxter…”  
  
”Why would it matter if I asked him instead of you?”  
  
”Well, obviously he likes you more than me. And I know he thinks it’s unfair you’re punished for my stupidity, so you could maybe ask if you can call your parents yourself? Or something like that,” Marceline explained.  
  
Dan shook his head. ”I don’t think that’ll work.”  
  
Marceline sighed. ”I know, but you cold still try.”  
  
”No, I mean even if he gave me my phone, he’d want to listen in anyway. There’s no way I could get my phone and keep it long enough to give it to you. Besides he’d check the calls I made anyway… I’m not exactly trustworthy in his eyes either, you know.” Dan frowned.  
  
”I guess you’re right.” Marceline took a breath, staring at her feet. ”Then we’ll just have to…”  
  
”There’s something I could do, though,” Dan interrupted her.  
  
”Huh?” Marceline looked up.  
  
”Well… I’m pretty good at picking locks. I could steal your phone back. And LSP’s too, and Bonnie’s if she’ll run away with you. And your wallets as well.”  
  
Marceline shook her head. ”No way. If you get caught… I can’t have you risking yourself like that for us.”  
  
Dan reached to take Marceline’s hand. ”Look. I know LSP better than you do, and I hate to see her like this. I want to help you guys. And I’m really good at this kind of stuff, there’s no way I’m getting caught. And what more can they do to me anyway?”  
  
”You want a list?” Marceline deadpanned.  
  
”Ha, ha. No, really, I can do it,” Dan said, squeezing her hand.  
  
”Thank you,” Marceline said. If Dan wanted to help them that bad, then let him. ”Really, thank you so much.”  
  
”Thank me when I’m done,” Dan grinned, letting go of her hand.  
  
Marceline smiled back, her lips shaking a bit. ”Okay.”  
  
”What kind of phone and wallet do you have?” Dan asked.  
  
”A blue Nokia 3510, the wallet is black leather, my ID and library card are inside.”  
  
”Got it,” Dan said. ”I’ll ask LSP about hers.”  
  
He had already turned away before glancing back at Marceline and adding: ”And… Ask Bonnie before dinner, okay? There’s no point in getting her things if she won’t and it’d get her in trouble. And..” Dan hesitated.  
  
”What?”  
  
”Don’t be disappointed if she says no. People like her don’t just run away.”  
  
Marceline had a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. ”I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.  
  
  
  
Morning therapy session was even more tedious than usual. Susan was the only girl who hadn’t been involved in yesterday’s events, and Miss Gary made sure to praise her in every occasion. Bonnie had purposefully sat on the edge of a log on the other side of Susan, almost like hiding from Marceline behind her large frame.  
  
It was like Bonnibel thought she couldn’t be trusted with keeping the appropriate distance. She knew as well as Bonnibel that they were supervised more carefully now, but by the way Bonnibel was acting it felt like the other girl thought Marceline would jump her immediately if she got too close. Why couldn’t Bonnibel trust her even a little bit?  
  
After the endless scolding and bullying that passed as a therapy on this camp, it was finally lunch time. Marceline passed Mary in the line, maybe a bit more aggressively than necessary, to get to stand behind Bonnibel. She made sure the girl couldn’t slip away without drawing attention to them and managed to get a seat next to her.  
  
Bonnibel’s shoulders were tense and she was looking down on her plate. Marceline stifled her annoyance: getting angry would only make things worse. Deep breath. Be casual.  
  
”Do you want my peas?”  
  
Bonnibel jumped a little bit. She glanced at Marceline with an unreadable expression. ”Okay,” she said.  
  
Marceline dumped the vegetables on Bonnie’s plate.  
  
”You want… whatever this is?” Bonnibel poked the gray mass which was maybe overcooked chicken in a sauce that was exactly like curry would be without any seasoning. Basically the cook had invented the opposite of curry.  
  
”How could I refuse,” Marceline replied.  
  
Bonnibel snorted a little bit. Marceline felt a smile tugging the corners of her mouth, and finally Bonnibel met her eyes. They smiled at each other, and the smile turned into a laughter. Suddenly all tension between them was gone, and Marceline felt excitement filling her body, from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her fingers. In that moment she was certain that Bonnibel would come with her.  
  
Marceline leaned closer and said with a hushed voice: ”I need to talk to you.”  
  
Bonnibel nodded.  
  
”After lunch, on the riverbank by the willows,” Marceline continued.  
  
Bonnibel nodded again.  
  
They were silent for the rest of the lunch, sitting so far apart that even their elbows wouldn’t accidentally brush, because Miss Gary had fixed her unwavering gaze at them.  
  
Bonnibel finished first, casting a brief smile at Marceline before taking the dishes to the kitchen. Marceline took her time, slowly chewing her cracker before following the other girl.  
  
Bonnibel was standing by the trees, back turned, not reacting to the sound of Marceline’s footsteps. Marceline walked next to her.  
  
”Look,” Bonnibel said quietly.  
  
There was a bird on sitting on the tree, large and black. A crow maybe? Bonnibel knew what it was, Marceline was sure of it. It took flight, sound of the wings flapping surprisingly loud in the quiet afternoon.  
  
”Ravens are smart birds,” Bonnibel said. ”They know how to use tools.”  
  
Marceline nodded. Bonnibel still hadn’t turned her head to look at her.  
  
Marceline cleared her throat. ”So… I was thinking.” She paused. ”Or actually, I have a plan. To get out of here, tonight. You could come, I mean, I’d like you to.”  
  
Finally Bonnibel looked at her. ”To go where, exactly?”  
  
Marceline shrugged. ”Wherever we want to.” She flashed a smile.  
  
Bonnibel frowned and the silence stretched between them.  
  
”I mean, anyplace is better than this, right?” Marceline gestured towards the camp.  
  
”I can’t believe you,” Bonnibel said flatly.  
  
”Huh?”  
  
Bonnibel turned her whole body towards Marceline, her shoulders stiff. ”You’re so childish.”  
  
Suddenly it was hard to breathe. ”Excuse me?” Marceline said, not sounding nearly as aggressive as she had intended.  
  
”You’re irresponsible! You just do whatever you want, and I’m sick of playing this game.” Bonnibel looked down again.  
  
Marceline’s whole body was trembling. She tried to ignore the tightness of her throat. ”What the fuck, Princess? What game?” she asked.  
  
Bonnibel gestured widely. ”This whole… this whole thing with drinking and sneaking about and breaking the rules and… and… rebelling! I can’t believe I’ve been acting like this!” Her voice was rising. Marceline shushed her.  
  
”Keep your voice down,” she snapped as quietly as she could.  
  
Bonnibel huffed but continued in a lower tone: ”After what happened yesterday you have the nerve to suggest we should just… that we could…”  
  
”Yes, exactly because of what happened yesterday! I’m not gonna stay here and let them torture me, and neither should you!” Anger felt good, better than the hurt she had felt before.  
  
”Oh you talk big about torture! Where are you going from here, huh? I bet they catch you before you’re even out of sight!” Bonnibel sneered.  
  
Marceline took a step closer. ”Well at least I tried, then! I can’t believe what a coward you are.”  
  
Bonnibel stepped back. ”I can’t believe I liked you in the first place, how can you be so stupid! I can’t just run away, I have responsibilities! I have to think about my future, unlike some people apparently.” She nearly spat the last words on Marceline’s face.  
  
At that moment Marceline was so close to punching her in the face. ”Well my future isn’t with these homophobes!”  
  
”Yeah? I think you have no idea what you’re doing! Responsibility demands sacrifice, you can’t just live your life doing whatever you feel like!” Marceline had to shush her again.  
  
”Well why the fuck did you hang out with me in the first place if I’m too lowlife for you, huh?” Marceline could hear her voice wavering. She took a breath to steady herself.  ”You can go back to your rich ass daddy and be the perfect straight daughter and inherit a fortune and marry a fucking prince if that’s what you want! You know what, I don’t care what you do, Princess.”  
  
”You know nothing about my life or my family. Shut the fuck up.” Bonnibel’s voice had gone more silent.  
  
”Yeah, well what would a homeless punk like me understand anyway? I mean, what do I know of responsibility, right? Cause like, it’s not like I’ve been taking care of myself by myself for the past ten years, no way.” Marceline couldn’t bare to look at her, so she looked at the river instead.  
  
”But you just don’t seem to get it. Not everyone can just do whatever like you, I mean grow up for fuck’s sake.”  
  
Marceline’s gaze snapped back at Bonnibel and she drew in a sharp breath. ”You know what? I can’t believe I liked you either. I thought you were different, I thought you’d get it.”  
  
”Get what exactly, Marceline?” Bonnibel asked, pronouncing each word carefully, like a teacher scolding a child. Marceline felt like suffocating under the weight of her judgmental gaze.  
  
”You’re such a bitch! You’re like… you have no idea what’s it like in real life! You have everything laid out for you, you just…” Marceline couldn’t even think of words to describe the level of ignorance Bonnibel was expressing.  ”I really hate you, I can’t believe I trusted you. I never wanna see you again.”  
  
Finally there was something like shock written on Bonnibel’s face. ”Marcy…” she began, uncertainly.  
  
Marceline shook her head. ”You’ve made perfectly clear what you think of me. Have a good rest of your life, I hope you die alone,” she spat and stormed off before her tears would betray her.  
  
She locked herself in a bathroom stall and started sobbing immediately. She couldn’t get Dan’s words out of her head: people like her don’t just run away.  
  
Bonnibel never even liked her, not in a way Marceline had felt for her. To her, it had all been just a game, something fun to do to pass time. All this time she had looked down on Marceline, actually come to think of it, she’d probably laugh about the poor arab chick she’d met later with her rich bitch friends. She’d think of this as a phase, teenage rebellion, check.  
  
Marceline was vaguely aware that she was being a bit unreasonable, but she didn’t care. Bonnibel had made her feel like she was worth something, like she was worth of… if not love, then at least something close to it. And all this time, she had looked down on her, just like everybody always did.  
  
Marceline sniffed. Whatever, it was not like this was the first time she was let down. She should have known better than to fall for someone like Bonnibel.  
  
Marceline got up, blew her nose, washed her face and walked back to the cabin. It was empty. Marceline noticed Bonnibel’s guitar leaning on the wall by her bed. She took out her pocket knife, the image of cutting all the strings briefly crossing her mind.  
  
Instead of doing that, she grabbed the instrument and turned it to look at the numbers she had scratched on it’s back. The small, crooked heart seemed to be staring at her. Marceline scraped the marks with her knife until not a single number was readable, making extra sure that there was no trace left of the heart. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only five minutes till her therapy session with Miss Gary, the last one if she had any luck. She placed the guitar back against the wall and stepped outside.  
  
The sunlight was still blindingly bright, but a strong, cold wind was blowing and Marceline shivered. She hoped it wouldn’t rain in the night, or worse, that there’d be a storm. She hurried to the main building.  
  
Miss Gary had the window of her office open and the wind was rustling the papers and other things best left unnamed in her office. Marceline was glad for the fresh air for once.  
  
It was such a relief to think that she’d never have to go through this again. She didn’t feel any need to defend herself anymore: she meekly agreed to every single thing Miss Gary was saying. Yes, Simon had been violent, no, she didn’t remember if he had abused her sexually but it was possible. Oh yes, she wished she wasn’t bisexual, her drinking was directly caused by her sexuality, and did she mention she was ready to convert to christianity? She was certain that Miss Gary would suspect something, that even she’d realize that this kind of one hundred and eighty degrees turn in attitude simply wasn’t believable, but instead the woman was sickeningly pleased with herself. She seemed to believe that her methods were finally working, she said she had seen this kind of change many times.  
  
Well, Marceline didn’t doubt she’d encountered something like this before, that much was sure.  
  
Finally it was over and Marceline practically sprinted out. She spotted Dan walking towards the river and followed him after making sure that there was no-one else around.  
  
”She said no,” Marceline blurted as soon as she caught him.  
  
Dan glanced at her with an unreadable expression. ”I figured. I saw her.”  
  
Marceline sighed. She briefly wondered if Bonnibel had cried as well but pushed the thought out.  
  
”That bad, huh?” Dan asked. ”Do you wanna talk about it?”  
  
Marceline shook her head forcefully. ”There is nothing to talk about.”  
  
”As you wish. Anyway, I talked with LSP and we figured it’d be better if you two didn’t see each other right now, so I could tell her what to do instead?”  
  
Marceline nodded. ”I’d say you guys are being paranoid but yeah… with a good reason.”  
  
She paused to think. ”Tell her to pack the most essential things into a plastic bag and tie it well and put it inside her backpack. We’re gonna cross the river, so it’d be good if she’d wear something she doesn’t mind getting wet. And tell her to put her hiking boots in a plastic bag as well, and into the backpack and her phone and wallet too… what else… So she’d have to pack herself some warm clothes probably, but leave enough stuff that she can form a lump into her bed, so that when they check at night, it’ll look like she’s sleeping.”  
  
Dan nodded. ”And what time are you leaving?”  
  
Marceline had thought about this a lot. ”It depends a bit. Basically, I’m thinking that if we stay up until midnight and wait for someone to come check us it’d be best to leave a bit after that. They are usually making rounds between midnight and 1 AM, and there is the least probability of getting caught if we leave something like twenty minutes after someone’s checked us, cause by that time they’ve returned inside and are probably quite tired.”  
  
”You’re probably right,” Dan said.  
  
”Yeah, this is not my first time.” Marceline had never escaped from a place that was this well guarded and this far away from civilization, but she didn’t need to think about that right now. ”So she should not leave until twenty minutes after they’ve made the rounds, and after midnight. And tell her to walk away from the main building along the riverbank and meet me over there by the spruce.” Marceline gestured towards the tree. ”If I don’t turn up after an half an hour or so, she should leave her backpack there and return to the cabin, quietly. I’ve probably been caught then and it’ll be bad for her if she’s caught with all her stuff in the night, she can go get it in the morning and tell them she went to the toilet or something if they spot her.”  
  
Dan hummed in agreement. ”Okay, seems clear enough. I’ll get your stuff during the dinner, so don’t worry about that.”  
  
Marceline smiled despite her anxiety. ”Thank you so much, honestly.”  
  
Dan returned her smile. ”I’m a magician, remember?”  
  
Dan went to the dinner first, leaving Marceline alone with her thoughts. She tried her hardest to convince herself that her plan was good, that they’d be able to make it, somehow.  
  
It was weird eating dinner without Bonnibel’s company. She was sitting on the other end of the table, pushing her food around on her plate, hiding her face from Marceline’s gaze behind her hair, which had lost all traces of the pink dye. Marceline shoveled food angrily into her mouth. Bonnibel could go to hell for all she cared.  
  
Dan must have left the room at some point, because he stepped inside, walking straight up to Marceline. ”Can I have your apple?” he asked, standing a bit too close to her.  
  
”No, I’m saving it for later,” Marceline replied.  
  
Dan sighed. ”Okay then,” he replied and returned to her seat. Marceline stood up and put the apple to her pocket… only to find out that it wasn’t empty. She could feel the shape of her wallet and phone there even though she hadn’t noticed Dan putting them there. It was like she had been pick pocketed but backwards.  
  
Marceline tried to walk as casually as she could, feeling like the items were burning her thigh. She returned the dishes and walked, slowly, towards the bathroom. She locked herself in and fished the phone and wallet from her pocket. She pressed the button and the screen lit with an image of hands reaching each other, the beeping sound of it turning on ringing way too loudly for her liking. She held her breath, hoping no-one had heard the sound. She heard nothing. Marceline turned the voice and vibration off right on time before the phone flooded with messages: some form people asking her where she was and if she wanted to hang out. The later messages, apparently after the news of her whereabouts had spread, were her friends asking if she was ok, making bad jokes about the ex-gay movement, asking when she’d be back.  
  
Marceline answered none of the texts. Instead she wrote: **U said you’d help me get out of here. Can u come pick me n friend up tonight some place near road 115?**  
  
She chose Ash’s number and pressed send.  
  
Soon enough the screen lit up with a new message: **Sure ;) its a long road where exactly? What time?**  
  
Marceline sighed with relief.  
  
**Around 2am-4am i think. North of 61, ill call u**  
  
The reply came almost immediately: **Ok cya :)**  
  
**Thanks so much i owe u 1** , Marceline sent back before putting her phone back to her pocket.  
  
Marceline spent the rest of the day feeling slightly disoriented: only now that she had decided to leave, she realized the full absurdity of the camp. They had simulated flirting practice, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Manfried’s completely uninterested: ”How are you today. Nice to meet you. I like your dress. Let’s dance.”  
  
She also tried really hard to not show any signs of her nervousness, and not to even look at either LSP or Bonnibel. She also tried not to think about the clouds gathering over the horizon.  
  
Marceline had never even unpacked her things in the first place, but after the simulation she checked that everything was waterproof, even though she had already done that before: you never knew if the perfect opportunity to run would arise when it was raining. It was a shame she would have to leave her sleeping bag and some clothes behind, but it was better to increase the chances of them not noticing that she and LSP were gone, at least until dawn.  
  
And then suddenly it was time to go to sleep, the last day was over. Marceline lay down on her bed and for once she felt thankful for her insomnia.  
  
In the safety of her sleeping bag she checked her phone. She had one new message: **I kno how u can pay back haha ;)**  
  
Marceline didn’t know whether to sigh or smile. She and Ash had had this thing for awhile, where Ash had made pretty clear that he wanted them to be more than friends, but Marceline hadn’t refused nor accepted. Ash was an okay guy and she did like him, but to be honest he didn’t exactly blow her mind. On the other hand, his crush on her was probably the only reason he was driving over a hundred miles in the middle of the night to pick her up. For a moment Marceline felt guilty but then resolutely stomped the feeling: she was ready to go out of her way to help her friends without the promise of sex, so it was perfectly reasonable for her to expect the same.  
  
The time slowed down as Marceline waited. It was like she was checking the time on her phone every two minutes, even though she could have sworn that at least ten minutes had passed in between. She listened to the calm breathing of the others, the wind blowing outside. With each noise, someone’s bunk creaking or windows rattling, her heart started to hammer.  
  
Finally it was midnight. At first Marceline waited with her whole body tense, but when nothing happened for twenty minutes, half an hour, forty minutes, fifty minutes, her body started to get warm and heavy despite her anxiety. She pinched herself every time her eyelids started drooping: it wouldn’t be long now, surely.  
  
What if whoever was making rounds tonight had fallen asleep and wouldn’t come at all? How long until she’d risk leaving anyway, going to pick LSP on her way and then run?  
  
Marceline was just going to check her phone one more time as she heard the door creaking open. She froze. The freezing wind blew inside, making the curtains fly. She didn’t dare to turn to see who was on the door: she imagined it was Lich, standing there like a bad omen, hems of his jacket flapping in the wind, face obscured by the darkness, eyes glowing with green light like he was a demon. She counted her breaths, trying to make them even: out in, out in, out in… and bang, the door closed.  
  
Marceline checked the time: 1:08. Twenty minutes and she’d leave. She waited, staring at the numbers on the screen. When it was quarter past one she got up, trying to quietly fill her sleeping bag with a pillow and some clothes. She turned on her flashlight, adjusting the brightness until it was only a faint glow. On the floor next to her bed was a pile of pink clothes, neatly folded, obviously left there on purpose.  
  
Marceline grinned despite herself. If this was the last good deed Bonnibel was going to do, she’d gladly accept it. She took her own clothes out and put them on her backpack, filling the sleeping bag with Bonnibel’s things instead.  
  
Just as she was ready to leave, Bonnibel stirred, sitting up and blinking blearily in the dim light.  
  
”Marcy,” she whispered.  
  
”Yeah?” Marceline replied, stepping closer to her bed.  
  
Bonnibel took something out of her backpack. ”Take these,” she said, offering her two bars of chocolate. ”Good luck,” she whispered.  
  
”Thanks,” Marceline whispered back, her fingers brushing against Bonnibel’s as she took the candy. ”Goodbye.”  
  
She heard a quiet ”…bye” behind her before stepping outside.  
  
It wasn’t raining yet, but the sky was covered in heavy clouds and it was pitch dark. Marceline turned off the flashlight, walking with careful steps towards the meeting point. She was thinking of how Bonnibel still hadn’t apologized and wondered if she’d ever see her again. Maybe she’d read about her on some magazine sometime, surely some journalist would want to interview the rich heiress. Marceline blushed in the darkness – what had she been thinking, asking someone like that to go live on the streets like a rat with her?  
  
LSP was waiting for her by the spruce. Marceline sighed with relief and turned on her flashlight once more.  
  
”Everything went ok?” she whispered.  
  
”Yeah, I played Tetris all night to stay awake,” LSP replied.  
  
”Yeah, it took so long for him to come and check on us…”  
  
LSP hummed in agreement. ”So you saw who it was, then?”  
  
”Yeah, it was Lich. Let’s go, there’s a shallower part over there where we can cross.”  
  
They walked silently along the riverbank. Marceline was still hyperaware of everything around her, every rustle of the leaves could have been Lich, breathing on their backs. She tried not to show LSP how scared she was. There was no use of both of them freaking out.  
  
They reached the place where the river turned, running over some rocks that were almost showing above the surface in the mid-summer drought. ”We’ll cross here,” Marceline whispered. ”Take off your shoes, socks and pants. I think the water is knee deep, here.”  
  
”Okay,” LSP whispered, her voice shaking a bit.  
  
Marceline flashed the light towards the bushes, looking for the poles she had cut from the nearby tree and hidden here. She took them out and undressed herself, putting the clothes in her backpack and tying the shoelaces together so that she could dangle them around her neck. LSP followed her example.  
  
”I can go twice and carry your backpack across,” Marceline offered.  
  
LSP shook her head. ”I’ll manage,” she said.  
  
”Okay.” Marceline accepted her decision, even though she was sure LSP had no experience of this kind of thing. She had no desire to do this twice unless she had to. ”So, here’s your pole. You use it to keep balance and feel the riverbed in front of you. Don’t step blindly, there are probably holes in between the rocks. And be careful, they’re slippery, and probably loose. And open the belts of your backpack, so if you fall you can get rid of it to swim.”  
  
LSP took a deep breath. ”Okay, understood.”  
  
”I’ll go first, follow me,” she said. ”Don’t grab me if you’re gonna fall, that’ll make us both drown. And tell me if you need help,” she finished, even though she had no idea what she’d do in that situation. ”Let’s go very, very slowly, okay?”  
  
”Yeah,” LSP whispered.  
  
Marceline ascended carefully down the steep riverbank to the waterfront. She hissed as she stepped in: the water was even colder than she had expected. She felt the rocks in front of her with the pole. It was so dark that it almost didn’t matter if she’d closed her eyes. The stones appeared to be firmly in place, so she ventured to take the next step. For now the water was very shallow, only up to her ankles.  
  
”Are you okay?” Marceline asked quietly.  
  
”Yeah,” LSP said. ”I’m stepping into the water now.”  
  
”Okay, it’s not very deep yet.”  
  
Marceline felt in front of her, taking small steps. From time to time she warned LSP of what was coming: ”There’s a loose rock in front of you. It almost turned under my foot” and ”It gets deeper over here”.  
  
Marceline’s teeth were clattering. By the time they reached the middle of the river, the water was already reaching her mid-thigh. She hoped it wouldn’t get deeper: in that case they’d have to carry their backpacks over their heads.  
  
”You okay?” Marceline asked.  
  
”Ye-yeah,” LSP stuttered. ”It’s fre-freezing.”  
  
Marceline hummed in agreement. ”We’re half way there,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. The rocks under her bare feet were slippery with algae.  
  
Fortunately it started to get shallower again. The wet skin of Marceline’s thighs was prickling with goose bumps.  
  
They waded forwards. The water was running faster in the perimeter, the water plants were brushing Marceline’s ankles. She fought the urge to run: if she fell here she’d twist her ankle for sure. She tried not to think about what kind of things there could be in the river.  
  
Finally she stepped up to the shore, LSP right at her heels. The shore was gently sloping here, and there was large willows, and a huge field opening right behind them. Marceline dropped her backpack and dug out a towel, quickly drying her feet.  
  
”You wanna borrow this?” she asked.  
  
”Thanks,” LSP said. ”It wasn’t that bad, after all.”  
  
Marceline laughed. ”Oh, well I was so ready to run… I kept thinking about all sorts of fish… and other things… that could be lurking in the water.”  
  
LSP shuddered. ”Shut up, will you.”  
  
Marceline was starting to feel warmer as soon as she had her clothes on again. She turned on her flashlight to find the map which she had hidden in her backpack during the hike.  
  
”We’re gonna walk along the edge of the field, here,” she showed LSP with her finger. ”When we reach that road, I’ll call Ash. It’s gonna be maybe two miles.”  
  
”So you’ve got someone to pick us up?” LSP asked, lifting the backpack once more.  
  
”Yeah, Ash is a friend of mine. He lives in Detroit, we can probably sleep at his place for a few nights at least.”  
  
”Good,” LSP said. ”Thank you so much…”  
  
”Don’t worry about it.”  
  
It started drizzling as they made their way along the riverbank. They had kept the poles they used crossing the river. Even with Marceline’s flashlight it was hard to see what the ground was like, so it was easier to keep their balance that way.  
  
Marceline and LSP reached the edge of the forest and turned away from the river. They walked with the forest on the right side and field on their left. Marceline didn’t know what the crops were called, but she assumed it was wheat or oat. They swished in the wind.  
  
”Do you think there are bears in that forest?” LSP asked suddenly.  
  
”I’d rather not think about that,” Marceline replied.  
  
The trek felt endless and the rain only got heavier. Marceline didn’t want to risk looking at the map: in this weather it’d just get wet and fall into pieces. She simply had to trust her memory.  
  
They walked what felt like an hour at least, and then the ditch that had been in between them and the forest made a sharp ninety degree turn, blocking their way. Marceline tried to peer ahead trough the rain.  
  
”I think that’s the road,” LSP said from behind her.  
  
”Yeah, I think so too. So all we gotta do is hop over this ditch.”  
  
”Oh yeah!” LSP exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.  
  
It was easier said than done. Eventually they managed to get across, but not without Marceline’s shoe taking a dip of the muddy water. ”Fuck!” she yelped.  
  
”You okay?” LSP queried.  
  
”Yeah, I just got a bootful of water…”  
  
LSP uttered a compassionate hiss.  
  
After that they were finally on the edge of the road, and Marceline fished her phone out of the plastic bag in the pocket of her backpack.  
  
The phone rang and rang until Ash finally picked up.  
  
”Hello,” he said with a sleepy voice.  
  
”Hi, it’s Marceline. Where are you?”  
  
Ash yawned on the other end. ”I’m at the side of the road, near the intersection of 115 and 61.”  
  
”Were you asleep?”  
  
Ash hummed in agreement. ”I was sleeping at the back of the van, I’ve been waiting for you for four hours so I thought I’d better get some sleep.”  
  
”Oh, okay,” Marceline replied.  
  
”So, where are you?” Ash asked. Marceline could hear the sound of the door sliding open and closed.  
  
”I’m pretty sure this is the second turn west from 115 after 61,” Marceline said, ”Maybe a mile from there. I have a flashlight so you’ll see us.”  
  
”Okay, see you soon,” Ash replied.  
  
”Yeah, see you,” Marceline said before ending the call.  
  
She fished her pockets for the chocolate bars and the apple she had taken with her.  
  
”You want this?” she asked LSP, giving her the bar in a brightly colored Candy Kingdom -wrapping.  
  
”Oh, yes, thanks,” LSP said. ”I’m so hungry I could die.”  
  
Marceline nodded with her mouth full. It was starting to get brighter: the light was gray and seemed to come out of nowhere. Marceline listened to the sound of the rain around them, trying to hear if there was a car approaching.  
  
”Look,” LSP said, pointing at something. ”Do you think that’s him?”  
  
Marceline saw the headlights too. ”He has a blue van. I don’t know, maybe?”  
  
LSP squinted her eyes. ”I think that’s definitely a van.”  
  
It was. Ash stopped right in front of them and hopped out of car.  
  
Marceline tried to hug him but he pushed her away, saying: ”You’re all wet, do you have any dry clothes with you? You can both go and change on the back.”  
  
Marceline nodded. ”Yeah, that sounds awesome. This is LSP, LSP this is Ash,” she introduced them to each other. They shook hands.  
  
Marceline and LSP changed quickly and climbed up to the front seats, Marceline sitting in the middle.  
  
Ash had one of his angsty hipster rock records playing. Usually Marceline hated those, but right now it fitted her mood perfectly.  
  
”So, Ash, do you think LSP could stay at your place a couple of nights? In the living room?” Marceline asked.  
  
”Yeah,” Ash replied. ”It’s okay… There is only one sofa though. Do you have a place to stay?”  
  
Marceline shook her head. ”No, not right now. I was thinking if I’d come to sleep in the bedroom with you?”  
  
Ash’s face lit up with a smile. ”Sure,” he said.  
  
LSP watched Marceline’s face out of the corner of her eye. Marceline wondered what she thought of her, if she appeared to be devious in her eyes. _Ash is a good guy_ , Marceline reassured herself, _we might have ended up together anyway_.  
  
Marceline fell asleep with her head resting on LSP’s shoulder and Ash’s hand on her thigh, listening to a melancholic voice singing:  
  
_Ain't no rainbow in the sky_  
_In the middle of the night_  
_But the signal's coming through_  
_One day I will be alright again_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Eels' Blinking Lights (For Me), which is exactly the kind of music I imagine Ash would listen to.
> 
> Oh my god, straight boys texting what a nightmare.


	8. We are not broken just bent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok ummm I don't even know what to say. This chapter has been ready-ish since forever, and half of it is even somewhat beta'ed, but my beta had some real life things going on and disappeared from social media completely (if you're reading this, I miss you and please come talk to me if you feel like it, about whatever you want, and take care!)
> 
> So then I had this half beta'ed chapter and real life happened to me to a big time and ughhh let's just say that I almost quit university, started being super politically active and also my mental illnesses are getting worse, and wooow it has been quite an interesting half a year to say the least.
> 
> Anyhow I have no idea when I can continue this but I do want to finish, so at some point for sure. Also if someone wants to beta read this fic that'd be more than great, srsly you don't need any skills exept knowing how spoken English sounds and when my sentences are "weird", anything at all would be a huge help! You can contact me via tumblr: purukumiprinsessa.tumblr.com or here in the comments.
> 
> So I'm very sorry about like, huge wait AGAIN and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Chapter song is P!nk's Just give me a reason and warnings for misgendering and discussion about the usual fuckery in the de-gay camp.

_ 2013 _

 

Marceline was going through her pockets, looking for her keys when Bonnibel called. At first, she wasn’t going to answer, there was nothing she wanted to hear from Bonnibel. She answered anyway, for curiosity’s sake if nothing else.

“Hello,” Marceline said, curtly.

_ “Hi.” _ It hit Marceline again, how familiar Bonnibel’s voice sounded after all this time.

Marceline was silent. She had a reason to be angry, and she wasn’t going to make this easy for Bonnibel.

_ “It’s me, Bonnibel.” _

“I know,” Marceline replied. She fell silent again.

_ “Are you there?” _ __   
__   
“Yeah,” Marceline said. “So, what’s up?”

_ “Um, you asked me to call so I... Is it too late? Were you asleep?”  _ Bonnibel sounded uncertain.

“No, I don't go to bed at half past eight, Bonnie,” Marceline said. She cursed herself for calling Bonnibel by her nickname, she wasn’t meant to do that.

_ “Right. So... What did you want to talk about?” _

Marceline didn’t want to talk about anything anymore. 

“I don't know. You tell me,” she replied. She finally found the keys, and fished them out of her pocket with a flourish that was more annoyance than intention.

_ “You're the one who... Nevermind. I just wanted to talk to you, I guess. I mean we didn't really have a chance to talk on Friday, and I thought about it... you. I've been thinking about you a lot, since.” _

Marceline squeezed the keys in her hand. She couldn’t understand what Bonnibel was trying to achieve with this phone call, and she was tired of dancing around the subject. 

“Really. So why did you lie to Lady then? And Jake?” she asked.

Bonnibel was silent for a second, then a  hesitant ,  _ “What do you mean?” _

“Well, they seen to be under the impression that I... You know, assaulted you or hit you or something,” Marceline said. She dropped the keys back into her pocket. She needed to walk around a bit, to get rid of the nervous energy that was flowing inside her body.

_ “What?” _

It was dark. The street lamps were few and far in between and there was no-one else out on this gloomy Sunday evening. The wind was chilly. Marceline walked faster.

_ “Oh my God… I didn’t say anything like that, I swear! I don’t-- I wouldn’t-- why would they even think that? That’s not what happened!” _

“I know it didn’t happen, stupid. I was there. But, you must have said something to–-”

_ “No! I’m serious, I didn’t say anything! I told Lady that we talked, and she asked me if I was okay. I said I was. That’s it, that’s all I said.” _

“So… why would Lady think that I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you, then?” Marceline asked. Her hand was freezing. She scrambled to switch hands, shoving her left hand into her coat pocket.  


_ “–upset. Because I hadn’t seen you in a long time and I was tired, and shouldn’t have gotten so drunk and–” _

“Wait. Hold on,” Marceline interrupted her. “So, you’re saying you were clearly upset, told Lady not to worry about it and, let me guess... didn’t speak to her at all the rest of the weekend?”

_ “Well, yeah, we don’t always talk so much. I was busy, and she was busy too, I guess, so…” _

Marceline sighed. “Did you stop to consider how that looked to Lady?"” she asked.

_ “Huh?” _

“Well, think about it. You were… were you crying on Friday?” Marceline tried to remember what Bonnibel had said to her. Something about mistakes.

_ “No! Or.. maybe, a bit. I don’t remember.”  _ Bonnibel was clearly lying, Marceline could always tell it from her voice.

“Let’s say you were,” Marceline said. “Okay, so you were crying, and Lady asks you what’s wrong. You refuse to tell her anything, but she knows it has something to do with me, so she thinks that I had done something to you. Then, you go complete hermit for two days, I mean, you were probably grumpy and hangover on Saturday anyways, but… I guess she didn’t dare to ask what happened cause she was afraid she’d upset you again and she started to imagine all sorts of things, and you never corrected her.” Marceline sighed again. “Cause you’re an idiot.”

Bonnibel used her most pedant and proper tone when she remarked,  _ “That wasn’t very nicely said.” _

“It’s true though!, I don’t understand how you can be so smart and at completely dense the same time… ugh.” Marceline paused. “Okay, so think about it like this: what would you think if Lady was acting like that?”

The line went quiet for a moment.  _ “I guess I see what you mean. I didn’t realize, I was just… I needed time to think. About stuff.” _

“So, that’s why you didn’t call me untill now?” Marceline asked. She felt lighter, things finally making sense. She switched her phone back to her right hand, tucking the left one in her pocket to warm it up before it went completely numb.

_ “–exactly! I didn’t know if I wanted to… or I wanted to call you right away but I wasn’t sure if…” _

“If what?” Marceline prompted.

_ “If you were serious. About, you know, wanting to… know me again. I mean, I was pretty mean to you.” _ __   
__   
Marceline’s heart started to beat faster. 

_ “I was… I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I’m so sorry.” _ _   
_

“Well, we were both young and stupid and I–”   
  
Bonnibel interrupted her.  _ “Maybe so. But anyway, what I said was unacceptable. I should’ve known better, I regretted it immediately, but I… and then you were gone, before I had a chance to explain.” _ __   
__   
Marceline noticed that her breath was starting to fog. She shivered and walked even faster. She decided to take the next turn to a road that would lead her back to her house. 

“Explain now, then.”

_ “I was scared. And ashamed. I thought… I thought that it was my fault that everyone was in trouble, that if I’d only do as they told–” _ __   
__   
“Bonnie–” Marceline tried to interrupt her but Bonnibel kept on talking.

_ “I know. I know it now, but back then… I had never not obeyed my parents, you know? And my mother, she’s… well, you don’t want to piss her off, I’m telling you. So, I just took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have, but the idea that you’d just leave me there, and that you could just… I was a bit jealous, you know? That you could just run away like that, that you weren’t scared of anybody.” _

Marceline almost laughed at the thought of her being fearless. 

“You think I wasn’t scared? I hated it there, and I hated the family I had back then, but I was so afraid of all of them, all the time. I just couldn’t take it anymore, and besides, I had run away many times before so I thought I’d be okay. But, it was scary as fuck when we left, it was so… Thinking back, I’m just glad we even survived it.”

_ “How did you do it? I didn’t believe you at first, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” _ __   
__   
“But, you gave me the clothes anyway. And…” Marceline tried to recall their last conversation. After all this time she wasn’t even sure if it had really happened.

_ “Yeah… In the evening I thought that what if you were serious after all, and then that… that would’ve been the last time we spoke, you know? And your backpack was packed, and you went to sleep without putting your pajamas on and… the pile of clothes next to your bed. So, I thought that maybe I could help you out. And I tried to stay awake ‘til you left, I wanted to…” _

“Say goodbye?” Marceline suggested.   
  
_ “Yeah, but I also wanted to make up with you, but I didn’t know how.” _ __   
__   
Marceline fell silent for a second.

"An apology would've been a good start,” she finally said.   
  
_ "But, I said I'm sorry, didn't I?" _ __   
__   
Marceline frowned. "Did you? I don't remember."   
  
_ "Yeah, I..."  _ __   
__   
Bonnibel paused.    
  
_ "No, I think you're right. I didn't say it, back then. I'm sorry." _ __   
__   
"I know you are, you just said that,” Marceline said.

_ "Oh, yeah, sorry–" _ __   
__   
"You don't have to keep saying it,” Marceline interrupted her, smiling.

_ "Sorry, I was just–" _ __   
__   
"I'm serious, Princess, stop it!"   
  
__ "Well, excuse me!"  Bonnibel sounded very irritated.

Marceline grinned. "You're excused,” she said.

_ "Marceline, I'm serious! I'm trying to apologize here!" _ __   
__   
“Apology accepted,” Marceline blurted before she had a chance to think about it.

_ “No, I mean… wait, what? Really?”  _ Suddenly Bonnibel sounded much younger, her voice was high and uncertain.

“Yes, really. You’re forgiven, or whatever.” In reality, Marceline had forgiven her a long time ago.

A car speeded past Marceline. “I didn’t hear you, say it again,” she asked.

_ “So you’re not mad at me anymore?”  _ Bonnibel’s voice still sounded so small. Marceline wished she was closer to her, that she could hold her.

“No, I’m not,” she reassured Bonnibel.

_ “Marcy… are you outside?”  _ Suddenly it was the adult Bonnibel speaking, concerned and serious.

“Yeah…?”

_ “What on Earth are you thinking? It’s already dark, and you’re alone, and–” _ __   
__   
“Don’t worry so much,” Marceline interrupted her. “I’m the most dangerous thing you could meet in a dark alley, believe me.”

_ “You’re serious, aren’t you.”  _ __   
__   
Marceline snorted. “Yeah, I mean it, ask anyone.”   
  
__ “I still think you should go inside.”

“Geez… I can already see my house from here, relax.” Marceline lied. Her house was still a few blocks further.

“So... you wanna know how we escaped?” she asked to distract Bonnibel.

_ “Yeah! I don’t think even they ever figured it out… we had all sorts of theories, though.” _

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Marceline asked.

_ “Well, you know, they realized you were gone a couple of hours after you left. They woke everybody up and… it was such a chaos, it was like three in the morning, and Lich took his car and went after you, and we all had to answer all sorts of questions, they didn’t let us sleep.” _ __   
__   
Now Marceline could actually see her house.   
  
_ “He didn’t find you, of course. So we thought you may have hidden a boat somewhere, and rowed down the river all the way to the lake. And that you must have had help, probably Mr. Baxter had hidden you somewhere, he was always kind of suspicious, you know? His fiance always seemed totally fake, he had clearly made her up.” _ __   
__   
Marceline laughed. “So Dan didn’t tell you, then?”   
  
_ “No way! You’re telling me he knew, all this time? He came up with half of the theories…” _ __   
__   
“Yeah, he knew. That sounds like him, though,” Marceline said.

_ “Marcy, just tell me already!” _

Just to be annoying, Marceline replied: “Wait, I’ll go inside first. I need to find my keys, wait a second.”   
  
She took out her keys and opened the door. “Okay, now I’m inside. Happy?”   
  
_ “No, I’m not happy until you tell me. I’ve been dying of curiosity for seven years, Marcy!” _ __   
__   
Marceline really wished she could see Bonnibel’s expression right now. She gave in. “Okay, okay. So… you were not wrong about the river, and we did have help, kind of. Dan stole our phones and wallets back from the hag’s office.”

_ “Oh yeah, cause he’s a magician so he knows that kind of stuff.” _ __   
__   
“Yeah. And then… well you already know we left right after Lich did his rounds,” Marceline continued, stepping into the lift.

Bonnibel hummed in agreement.

“And then we crossed the river,” Marceline said.

_ “What? How?” _

Marceline stepped out of the lift. “Wait, I’ll open my door first and take my coat off.”

She went inside and stepped out of her boots and took off the coat and beanie. Her hands started to tingle in the warmth of her apartment. “Are you still there?” she asked.

_ “Yeah. You’re on the speaker, I’m making tea. Lady just came home.”  _ Bonnibel’s voice had an echo on it.

“Okay,” Marceline said. She sat down on the sofa and pulled a blanket around herself.

_ “And I was just telling her that it was all just a misunderstanding.”  _ Bonnibel’s voice was loud, she clearly meant it for Lady as well. Marceline could imagine her meaningful glance.

_ “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions, Marceline,”  _ Lady said after a pause. Marceline heard the noise of an electric kettle on the background.

“Let’s just forget it. Like she said, it was a misunderstanding,” Marceline said.

Bonnibe’s voice was full of forced cheerfulness.  _ “Good, so that’s all settled!” _

Marceline wasn’t so sure she could just forgive it like that. She had known Lady for a while, she sometimes hung out at Jake’s. She had honestly thought Lady liked her, and the betrayal was hard to swallow. Marceline would have done the same for her friends, maybe, but it felt worse when it was herself being wrongly accused.

Marceline sighed. “Yeah, no hard feelings,” she said, regardless. She heard Bonnibel pouring the water.

“And Bonnie?” Marceline asked, wondering if Lady was still in the same room.

_ “Yeah?” _ __   
__   
“I’m sorry too,” Marceline admitted, “for being so forward and familiar with you, even though we hadn’t seen each other in years. I should’ve been more considerate.”

_ “It’s okay. I was probably sending mixed signals, I’ve been told I do that a lot.”  _ Bonnibel’s voice sounded like it was coming closer again.

Marceline snorted. “Yeah, you do,” she said.

Bonnibel sighed.  _ “Right. Anyway… tell me how you crossed the river?” _

“We walked,” Marceline said flatly.

_ “Huh?”  _ Marceline wished again she could see Bonnibel’s face.

“Yeah, we took off our shoes and pants and just walked across, there was this shallower part where the water was only knee deep. Or mid-thigh, but anyway, not too deep to walk across,” she explained.

_ “But it was the middle of the night! You both could’ve drowned!” _

“Yeah, that crossed my mind too, a few times,” Marceline said. “But better drowned that turned ex-gay, you know?”

_ “No, I don’t know, Marcy. I really thought… I read all the local news online every day for two years at least, to know if they found you or LSP... or a body that looks like you or her. I was afraid you were dead, I thought LSP was dead… actually, do you know where she is now? Do you know if she’s okay?” _

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Marceline reassured her. “She lives in Florida now, we talk on Facebook sometimes. She’s doing okay, I think, she works as a secretary or something like that, lives with some cousin of hers.”

Marceline heard Bonnibel breathing out on the other end.  _ “I can’t believe I didn’t ask about her right away, this has all been so sudden… but I’m glad to hear that.” _

“Yeah. I know about some of the others too, we’ve kept in touch with Dan and he’s still friends with Manfried. Dan is making a career as a magician, I’ve seen his show, it’s honestly rather good. And Manfried studies something, I forgot what it was though.” Marceline didn’t actually care about Manfried’s career that much. It was something boring anyway, like Manfried himself.

_ “Well, they’re both alive, so that’s enough for now. Do you know anything about Mary and Susan?” _

“Susan, no. Mary, well… I think I saw her, a few months back?” Marceline smiled at the memory.

_ “You’re not sure?” _ __   
_   
_ “No. It was a party, and, you know. She seemed familiar and I couldn’t remember where I had seen her before. She had a face full of piercings, and a buzzcut. Oh, and tattoos too. I didn’t really talk to her, she was staring at me the whole night, though, and I thought… but then I realized it was cause she was  __ Mary , and despite her looks she’s still shy as fuck.”

_ “I can’t believe it. Our Mary.”  _

“Yeah, if it was her,” Marceline said. “I’m pretty sure it was.”

Bonnibel giggled.  _ “I can actually see it… I mean, I get why she’d do that. I think.” _ __   
__   
“I should find her on Facebook,” Marceline said.

Bonnibel hummed in agreement.  _ “Did you see the missing person ads LSP’s family put up?” _

“Yeah. They were ridiculous,” Marceline said with contempt. “They used a four year old photo–”   
  
_ “And her birth name–” _ __   
__   
“Their beloved son–” Marceline continued, her voice dripping with irony.

_ “Clearly they didn’t want her to come home unless she’d…” _ __   
__   
“Yeah. LSP pretended she didn’t care but… I mean, she couldn’t go home, not after that. She hasn’t spoken to her parents since,” Marceline said.

_ “My family would do the same. Or not the same thing obviously, but I know that if I… came out or whatever they’d disown me for sure. My mother told me so, at the camp when they visited, that they don’t support... my lifestyle... and that I could never come home unless I stopped being gay.” _ __   
__   
Marceline felt almost physically ill just thinking about it. “That’s the only good thing about my dad. He doesn’t care who I date or don’t date,” she mused.

_ “Your dad?” _ __   
__   
Marceline had already forgotten that Bonnibel didn’t know about Hunson. “Yeah, I met him… or actually I went to live with him, I lived in Egypt for a year,” she explained.

_ “Wow. How did you even find him?” _ __   
__   
“I didn’t, he found me. It’s a long story,” Marceline said.

_ “I’d like to hear it all… if you want. I mean, if it’s private or something I–” _ __   
__   
“No,” Marceline interrupted her. “I wanna tell you. I haven’t really talked about it much with anybody.”   
  
_ “So what's he like?” _ __   
__   
Marceline didn’t know how to even begin to answer that question. “I’m not... It's hard to describe. Simon was... Well you don't know what I'm talking about. But Simon was right about him, anyway.”   
  
_ “Maybe you should just start from the beginning.” _ __   
__   
Marceline pulled the blanket more tightly around herself and began to tell her story.

 

> I had just broken up with Ash, finally after five years of living with him. Yeah, I had met him before I met you, he was the one who came to pick me and LSP up when we run away. No, we weren't dating before. He was kind of jerk, but you know. He had a place of his own, a car, and we had been friends for awhile then, I think I convinced myself I was in love with him or something.
> 
> Anyway, I had no idea what to do next, I had nowhere to go. I was walking around trying to decide who to ask for a place to stay for a few nights when Ash texted me. Some foreign men had been looking for me and he said he didn't want anything to do with whatever trouble I was in. He was pretty pissed at me back then, maybe he still is, I haven't seen him since so I don’t know.
> 
> I was curious so I asked him if they left a card or a number. I finally had a legal job, kind of, so I hadn’t much reason to think I was in trouble, except if it was the child service, cause I wasn’t 21 yet, but they would have said who they were, I think. No, this was something else.
> 
> They had left a number so I called. The guy who answered said that my dad wanted to meet me. I didn't believe him, at first, but he seemed to know everything about me, my mom, my dad, even Simon. So I agreed to meet him in a cafe, in broad daylight of course, I'm not stupid.
> 
> He had all these documents with him, I still don't know if they were real or forged, my birth certificate and an Egyptian passport with my name, okay, I know that was fake since the photo was new, it was the one Ash had kept in his wallet so maybe he gave it them. Maybe they stole it. Anyway it was all very real looking.
> 
> No, actually, I think Ash had sold me to them, just like he sold Hambo. Hambo was my… this is pretty embarrassing, but Hambo was my teddy bear. Simon gave him to me after my mom died, he was the only toy that I had, and Ash sold him. What do you even get from an old, one eyed teddy bear? A dollar, maybe? That was actually the reason I left, I couldn’t believe he’d do that, even though we were really short on cash. Anyway, maybe they paid him for telling about me.
> 
> So there I was, with a new identity, my real one this time, and this man who knew more about me than I did. He said my dad had been looking for me ever since my mom took me to America, that they had already found me just before the camp but lost track of me when I run away. He was pretty impressed with my ability to hide from both them and the child service, it took them four years to find me. He said my dad wanted me to come to Egypt to live with him.
> 
> I was pretty desperate at that point. I hadn’t eaten anything that day, or the day before that, I was trying to fill my stomach with the coffee he bought me, and I thought, well, why not? So I said yes, and I think he knew I would since he already had a plane ticket for me. I should have been suspicious but for some reason I wasn’t, maybe because there was no reason that anyone would do something so ridiculous unless it was all real, there really was no other explanation.
> 
> So suddenly I was on a plane on my way to Egypt. It was like a fairy tale, or something out of a Dickens novel, like every orphan’s wildest dream. I could meet my real dad, and he was rich, and he had been looking for me. All this time I had had a family.
> 
> And boy how rich he was. Hunson is… I don’t even know how to describe it. He has this mansion, or more like a castle, that had huge walls around it, and a garden, and I had servants. At first I just… well I obviously didn’t speak arabic so at first I only talked with my dad, he knows English, but the others didn’t, or at least not much. So I watched satellite TV all day, I could eat whatever I wanted, I had a driver who took me to a mall, I could buy whatever I wanted. It was unreal.
> 
> And my dad, he didn’t care that I was bisexual, he was angry at my foster parents for sending me to the camp. He didn’t care that I had broken the law, actually he was just impressed by it. He wanted me to be his successor, I thought it was some kind of business and I was like okay, whatever, and I started to learn arabic. I thought I had finally found a home, that he understood me. I wanted to stay there.
> 
> Yeah, well, nothing is ever what it seems, right? I learned to speak arabic and the more I understood the more sketchy everything started to seem. There was a line of people outside our gates every day. I asked my dad about it, but he didn’t explain, not really, he just said they were clients of his. So I asked Isra, my maid, and she told me what it really was.
> 
> My dad was a human trafficker. He smuggled people abroad, to EU mostly but some to States as well. And he didn’t do it out of a goodness of his heart, no way. The people were using all their savings to pay him for a journey that could potentially kill them, to go somewhere where they might not even get to stay, it was all so nasty and he was so careless about it, you know? For him it was just business, and good business at that. I think he did other things as well, I mean he was part of the local mafia, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I saw what I wanted to see, I guess.
> 
> I was angry at him, of course, but I was at his mercy as well. I finally understood why my mom had left, and how, since she obviously had been part of the whole thing, so she had known people who helped us escape. I understood why Simon had been so paranoid, we moved around all the time and used fake names, he was always certain that there was someone after us, after me, and he had been right. After all this time, his fear hadn’t been a delusion, or at least parts of it had been real. Or at first it had been a real thing that had turned into paranoia.
> 
> Yeah, Simon was insane, I never told you, did I? He saw monsters everywhere, everyone who we met was certainly working for  _ them _ , and I was just a child so I believed him. He was using as well, in the end he was… he wasn’t himself anymore, he was scary most of the time, I didn’t know what it was called back then but I think I saw him in psychosis, more than once. Still, he truly cared about me. He did it all to protect me the best he could, despite being an addict, despite being insane, even though I wasn’t even his flesh and blood. I was just the daughter of his girlfriend.
> 
> I missed home, I missed my friends. I fought with my dad every day. Finally he let me go, he gave me money actually. I know I should have refused but… I don’t know, I needed it and he had it and I decided I deserved it. So I came back. It was 2010, just a few months before the uprising began, so I got lucky. I mean after that they closed the airports, I think, I’d still be there probably, there was a curfew and everything, army patrolling the streets, all that. My dad probably found a way to profit from the situation, he’s the kind of guy who always stays in power, you know? But regardless, it would have been difficult to leave.
> 
> So I bought this place, and my store, and the car. Yeah, Finn works for me. It’s actually pretty easy to make money when you don’t have to pay rent, I’ve been saving to pay everything back. I don’t want to owe my dad anything, I’m still afraid he’s gonna show up one day, demanding me to perform my duties as his successor, or something. I understand how Simon felt, and my mom, my dad really has eyes everywhere.
> 
>  

Bonnibel was silent for awhile.  _ “That’s… that’s unbelievable.” _ __   
__   
“I know,” Marceline said. “I still can’t quite understand it myself… He was so different from what I imagined, you know?”   
  
_ “Yeah, I mean who could’ve imagined that?” _ __   


Marceline smiled. “That’s true,” she said.

She could hear Bonnibel yawning.  _ “I’m glad you told me.” _ __   
__   
“Yeah,” Marceline said. “And you… we should meet someday? Soon?”   
  
_ “Yeah.” _ __   
__   
“You should play with us. I still can’t believe you stopped playing guitar. And that you sold it, why did you do that?”   
  
_ “I don’t know… I just didn’t feel like playing, and the guitar just reminded me of, well, everything. And… then one day I just took it to the store and decided to stop thinking about it.” _ __   
__   
“I’d still like to play with you,” Marceline said.

_ “Yeah… actually I… I thought about it.”  _ Bonnibel’s speech was interrupted with another yawn. Her voice was warm and sleepy.  _ “I have another guitar, and I played a bit, today. I think I want to try, again.” _ __   
__   
Marceline smiled. Her stomach was filled with butterflies. “We have a rehearsal on Thursday. You think you can make it?”   
  
_ “Yeah… although I’m not sure if I–” _ __   
__   
“It’ll be fine,” Marceline reassured her. “You can just listen, if you like, and decide later.”   
  
_ “I’ll be there, then.” _ __   
__   
“Okay,” she said. “Do you have a class in the morning?”   
  
_ “Yeah… at nine. I think…” _ __   
__   
“You should really go to sleep already it’s…” Marceline took her phone off her ear to check the time, “Half past eleven…? I can’t believe we talked for three hours!”

_ “Three hours isn’t nearly enough to make up for seven years of absence.” _

“True,” Marceline said. “But… good night, talk to you later.”   
  
_ “Yeah, good night, see you on Thursday.” _ __   
__   
Marceline put down her phone. Her hand and shoulder were cramping for being in the same position for too long. It was too silent in her apartment without Bonnibel’s voice in her ear. She got up and opened the radio.

The dj announced a new song by P!nk. Marceline almost changed the channel, she normally couldn’t stand how all her songs were just wailing after some ex of hers, but for some reason she didn’t.

The song was surprisingly good, or maybe Marceline was in the exact right mindset for it. She thought she must be falling really hard to be able to relate to the most generic love song there was. She was turning into a softie.

Marceline decided she’d try to see Bonnibel before Thursday, accidentally of course. She lived quite close to the campus and a new vegan cafe had just opened around the corner, and it was filled with students. If she’d sit there sipping soy latte, or whatever they served there, during the lunch hour every day, it’d be very likely she’d run into Bonnibel. Totally by chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm looking for a beta so please, please contact if you're interested! Happy new year!


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